Cut to the Core

I broke it. There were three in my pocket. I had left them in the car after our trip to Cape San Blas...

Tiny sand dollars

Gifts with purchase at the souvenir shop

They'd been left in the car for several days, and I kept forgetting to bring them in. The other day, I put them gently into the pocket of my sweatpants with the intention of putting them immediately on the counter when I walked into the kitchen.

I forgot

I sat down and heard a crunchy snap

Then I remembered

There were tiny sand dollars tucked in my pocket

I tentatively pulled them out... not really wanting to acknowledge that they'd been broken...even though the sound and feel was undeniable

Turns out, at least only one of the three had cracked in two. When I pulled that one out, two pieces fell on the ground.

Thinking these were fragments of the snapped sand dollar, I picked up the tiny, crumb-like bits and turned toward the trash can.

Wait

My attention was quickly caught. I realized these little pieces weren't actually part of the exterior of the sand dollar.

These sweet gems were, in fact, the tiny doves that you find when you break open a sun-bleached sand dollar.

Seeing those teensie white birds made me think of childhood, family vacations on Sanibel Island where my brothers and I would walk out to the sandbar and use our toes to dig for live sand dollars. Live ones are a greyish-green--kind of prickly and tickly at the same time. When you turn the sand dollar over and look closely, you can see its tiny tentacles wiggling.

My brothers and I harvested sand dollars (back in the day) and kept a few for ourselves. Yes, we bleached them in the sun...and took them home as our own souvenirs...no purchase necessary.

Sand dollars have been part of my life for years, yet, I haven't had or found a complete one in decades...so, it was easy to forget about the surprise inside.

So, while looking at my tiny broken sand dollar souvenir, I was especially delighted to find the doves...

They tumbled out like seeds from an apple cut to its core...

When I see broken beings, things, my senses sharpen and I tense up. I real back in defense of myself. I don't like being broken. So many things break. I dropped a deep cobalt blue, skinny, tall vase into the sink the other day--- its rim broke.

Upsetting... I did glue it back, and it is still lovely despite its scars.

As I'm writing now, I've been thinking of the significance of broken objects and broken people.

We don't like to see anything precious marred, splintered, crushed--brokenness goes against the grain, feels uncomfortable, sad, painful, inescapable at times...

What I know from personal experience and living life with others, is that it's virtually impossible to avoid being hurt--broken.

In that shattered state, we have to deal and heal to find the beauty inside us just waiting to emerge...our own "freed bird"

What's so compelling, and ultimately a perfect analogy, is the emergence of the delicate, ivory doves falling out of the slivered notches within the sand dollar itself.

I can't avoid the obvious. The life lesson of "beauty in the broken" is too good of an image to go without mention.

When we are find ourselves smashed with shards of life scattered on the floor of our souls, do we only see the pain? Do we only feel the hurt? Do we give up?

We probably do all of the above and more. I have.

BUT

The redeeming value of seeing the beauty in the broken is the open door to life transformation.

My aim is to see the pearly, delicate doves that spill out of the corners of our hearts (and yet so easily overlooked, left unacknowledged).

There in the light of day is the gift in the broken

Wings of the Dove

Spread open to learn

Poised for growth

Aware

Ready to fly

Don read this poem to me the other day...so good!