Hi Reader, In a recent yoga class, the teacher told us about a lesser-known Hindu goddess. Her name is Akhilandeshwari. She hops on top of her fear, the alligator, and steers it down the river of life, breaking apart and recreating herself at all times. Her name translates in English to: She Who Is Never Not Broken. When I search for this Goddess online I don’t find much more than this little bit my yoga teacher shared, but one point is emphasized in everything I read: the double negative in her name. Instead of “always broken,” it’s “Never Not Broken,” emphasizing the brokenness. Each source says that her power comes from her brokenness. I think about how counterintuitive it seems to consider something broken as powerful, as (especially in American culture) we usually associate being broken with weakness. We are obsessed with the strength, vitality, speed, and beauty of youth, of athletes, of celebrities. We are obsessed with being the biggest, the strongest, the fastest, the best we can possibly be. These qualities get the spotlight and the glory, while the sick, wounded, and broken sit on the sidelines and, sometimes, even hide in the shadows. How can something broken be strong? By definition, if it’s broken, it has lost its strength. I have been feeling broken for a long time, much of which I have shared in these weekly emails in wake of the MS relapse I experienced at the end of August 2022. It has definitely left me feeling broken physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. It’s exhausting. It’s draining. To have so much of your focus consumed by illness and managing health can easily cause you to feel helpless and, worse, hopeless. It crushes your spirit. And, yet, even when I was at my worst, I found a way to do what I was able to do. I wasn’t (and still am not, in some ways) able to do things the way I used to. I wasn’t (and still am not, in some ways) able to do all the things I used to do. But I still write these emails. I am still working on revamping my business to move forward in a way that does work for me. I still go to yoga, and do as much movement as I can, resting as much as I need to along the way. Then I realize: THAT is exactly what the power of brokenness means. It means you’re feeling as low as you’ve ever felt and still find it within yourself to exert the smallest amount of energy. You don’t have to be the strongEST. You just have to be your own version of strong. As I was searching and reading about She Who Is Never Not Broken I found this quote from the American Tibetan-Buddhist, ordained nun, and author Pema Chodron: “We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” I can’t tell you how often I feel like I’m working toward some magical, undefined destination. A point at an unknowable future when I’ll be as well and strong physically as I have been in the past. Or when I’ll finally have my book published. Or when I’ve finally achieved a financial goal in my business. As if arriving at these mysterious future destinations will solve all of my problems. And then I learn about She Who Is Never Not Broken and find this quote from Pema Chodron, both of which tell me that there’s no such thing as arriving. As solving it. As figuring it all out. I’ve written about this before, that it’s not either/or, but both/and. It’s not either broken or strong. It’s both broken AND strong. How easy it is to forget that two opposing forces can coexist. But only if I let them. Janna p.s. I have a free masterclass for women writing nonfiction that hasn’t been available for three years. Click here to watch (immediately or anytime that works for you!) if you’re interested. |