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yagr · Jul 11, 2019, 07:56 AM

I am, quite literally, a broken person. My psyche fractured by abuse, I mourned what could have been. But as I've gotten older, my perspective has changed. I am a writer and am currently working on a series. I've written a scene for an upcoming book starring two characters who the books are about. It speaks of brokenness in a way that is different than how many think of it...

Quote:

“You made an entire village of 'nut' people?” I asked.
“Yes,” Anadia answered, “do you like it?”
“Yeah, I do, it's actually really cool” I paused. “So, you think people are nuts, huh?”
“No, silly Josh, people are not nuts. There are many differences.”
“I actually knew that,” I grinned as I picked up one of the nut-men delicately and looked it over, “it was that sarcasm thing we've talked about. Since people and nuts are different in every way, they...”
“They are not different in every way, my Josh,” Anadia interrupted as she reached for her creation that Josh was holding, “they are actually identical in one very important way.”
I handed it to her gently as to not damage it, raised an eyebrow and gave her a half-smile, “Yeah, in what very important way are they identical?”
Anadia held my eyes as she raised her arm slowly before bringing it crashing down on the table, crushing the nut-man and breaking the shell. “You can not get to the good stuff until it has been broken.” She smiled and brought one of the nuts to my lips and, after a moment's pause cause I was stuck back at what she just said, she pushed it in giggling.
“Wait a second,” I said, as I tried to navigate talking with a nut in my mouth. Anadia plopped down on a chair soundlessly. “Do you really believe that? That bit about 'you can't get to the good stuff until they're broken'?”
“Of course, my Josh. Do you not see this as true?”
“To be honest,” I explained, “the thought had never occurred to me but it's intriguing,” I said as I tried to let the thought marinate.
“No spiritual warrior ever arrives at the starting line whole,” she offered in that helpful way she has that only seems to confuse me more.
“Whaa...?” I managed, which sent her into giggles again.
“You and I, as well as Daniel and my mother, are spiritual warriors,” she began. I hadn't actually thought of myself as a spiritual warrior but have to tell you, I liked the sound of it – I just wasn't sure it applied to me.
“You are such a silly boy and I love you so very much,” Anadia said softly as she interpreted the doubt in my features. “There are so many examples for me to choose from but perhaps your first encounter with the Maraz. You stopped the commandant from drinking the poisonous water, do you not recall this?”
“Yeah, but I wasn't thinking!” I protested. “There was no epic battle to do the right thing, it was just a reaction.”
Anadia rolled her abalone-colored eyes, “I was wrong when I called you a silly boy,” she said solemnly. “You are a very, very silly boy. And funny. Yes, funny too.” Seemed she was actually beginning to get the whole sarcasm thing after all. “Do you not see? There was, as you have called it, an epic battle to do the right thing. You simply fought that battle long before that encounter with the commandant. For instance, when I first learned to weave baskets, it was difficult to move my fingers in the way required to weave correctly. Now, my fingers weave with no thought. I would have to use effort to do it wrong.”
“We call that muscle memory,” I said, nodding.
Anadia inclined her head, “Exercising the spiritual values we have embraced is also a muscle,” she replied. The epic battles were your first attempts to behave selflessly. As time went on, it became easier, until eventually you act for others with no thought. In doing so, you became my warrior.”