Song by Dia Frampton "The Broken Ones"
I can't tell you how happy I am to find some time to post something after a brief hiatus. To ease back into things I wanted to leave a message of hope for anyone reading this post today. Today's blog was inspired by Dia Frampton's new song "The Broken Ones." This song pretty much sums up why I do what I do. As she says, "I can't help it, I love the broken ones."
If you're reading this and times are hard, know that they will get better. If you're reading this and feeling alone, know that every word in this blog is dedicated to you and although we do not know each other, we are not strangers, but merely friends who have not yet met. If you're reading this with a heart filled with grief and regret, remember that you are only human. Be kind to yourself, tomorrow is a new day. If you're reading this and feel as if your world is shattered in pieces, remember that time heals all wounds. It will get better. Have faith. If you are reading this and don't know where you belong, remember that the world is yours, there is no limit to all you can and will accomplish. If you are reading this a feel like nothing seems to be going right, remember that the stairway to success is built by a ladder of do-overs and mistakes. The only way to fail is never to try. Don't quit. If you're reading this and feel overwhelmed, remember to take a step back and breath. If you're reading this remember to always be yourself and speak truth. If you are part of the "broken ones" remember that I am too. We all are. I love my shattered pieces. They serve as a reminder of who I have become. The struggles overcome. The determination to rebuild and "glue" things back when needed.
I am reminded of a glass globe my mother had that always intrigued me. Within it was the most beautiful blue butterfly mounted on the tip of a pink silk flower.Each day, I'd pass this globe sitting on a shelf. In my curiousness I climbed on the back of the sofa, stretched my arms up over my head, grasped the bottom of the globe, lifted it up only to watch as it tilted forward freeing itself from my tiny hands, ultimately shattering on the ground. Yet it did so in the most beautiful way, like sparklers on the Fourth of July. And there on the sunlit floor laid fragments of shiny shattered pieces- broken, but beautiful. That image always comes to mind during tough times. It serves as a reminder that the only way to never become "broken" is to remain on the shelf and never take chances, never really live.
I am reminded of a glass globe my mother had that always intrigued me. Within it was the most beautiful blue butterfly mounted on the tip of a pink silk flower.Each day, I'd pass this globe sitting on a shelf. In my curiousness I climbed on the back of the sofa, stretched my arms up over my head, grasped the bottom of the globe, lifted it up only to watch as it tilted forward freeing itself from my tiny hands, ultimately shattering on the ground. Yet it did so in the most beautiful way, like sparklers on the Fourth of July. And there on the sunlit floor laid fragments of shiny shattered pieces- broken, but beautiful. That image always comes to mind during tough times. It serves as a reminder that the only way to never become "broken" is to remain on the shelf and never take chances, never really live.
You and I are not "broken," but merely pieced together by all the fragments of life. Like a mosaic, made up of broken, beautiful, and unique pieces.
Big hugs,
Ane :)
I can't help it, I love the broken ones, The ones who, Need the most patching up. The ones who've, Never been loved, Never been loved, Never been loved. |
The missing piece always trying to fit in.
The shattered heart,
Hungry for a home.
No you're not alone,
I love the broken ones.
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