Kundalini Yoga + Sacred Living:

Never Not Broken

I see two ways of living as time threads through. In one we learn to exist as cleanly as possible. We learn the roads and valleys. We learn to protect and make our longing less, hope less, forgive, but only in word. We bite our tongues because the words that want to escape might drown us, all of us. A tightness grows around the lips. We do not kiss or cry with our whole bodies. This ensures we can swallow life in manageable chunks.

And then there is another way to live. To be ever in pieces. To let the world press its great body into yours. To relent at the sorrow and pain. To let it rush headlong into you and lay your shield down. Fractured and beautiful, life surges through you the way water weeps and glides through the rough stones of a river. The brokenness keeps you moving. Your crumbling keeps you yielding to the relentless flow of life.

There is a diety in the Hindu tradition named Akhilandeshvari. “Deshvari” translates to “goddess”, and “akhilan” to “never not broken”. Goddess Never Not Broken. A goddess who is constantly fractured, not whole, in parts, dismembered. I’ve been calling on her this week.

She reminds us that we are never not broken. We are never not in pieces. It’s in the face of death, loss, heartbreak, and great change that this becomes clear. We are body parts, fingers, flesh, tissue, fat, cells, blood, brain. And sometimes we lose our body parts. There is toxic tissue, we cut out what is killing us. Or people leave us- through death or loss. Or we leave to save ourselves. What once seemed whole and solid is shattered against stone in countless, unglue-able pieces.

And so when it happens that we see this condition of being ever-in-pieces. When the pain hits in the heart like an arrow to thin glass, let us weep. Let us crumble like the sides of a river over time. Let’s not harden in our truth or stance. But let us be like water. What’s so bad about being broken anyway? What would happen if we admitted it?

We are a dancing mass of stars. We are forever in pieces. You and me, we are pieces of the same shattered light in the sky. Let’s bless the space between us.

4 Comments

  1. Kari Hietanen says:

    Beautiful!! Grateful. For you, your writing, these words and this message. <3

  2. Patricia says:

    Nicole, This has special meaning as I face into my fourth breast procedure. Dropping into pure surrender, vulnerability…your words provide a beauty; a release from self/other blame. Tears of recognition and release emerge. I’m reminded of the Indian bos i’m reminded of the Indian Masts, (pronounced musts), Who on the surface look crazy, dirty and vulnerable, but have been bathed in God-bliss and care for nothing else but loving God. They are spiritul masters in the making; we will see them again in 100 years as Sai Baba, Yogananda and others. They have this habit of guasting; as they dismember extremities—not in anyway violent or painfully. They prefer being in pieces, that’s all…broken…As East Indians look for Masts, they might find them in the gaust state.

    • Nicole Nardone says:

      i love you. what an honor to witness you move through this time with such vulnerability. this speaks to me deeply. it’s incredible how crisis and illness can bathe us in that “god bliss” like NOTHING else. a secret key to ecstasy. beautiful. and it makes sense – the world, if we look hard enough, IS ALWAYS in pieces. why not live saturated in that truth instead of pretending things are static and forever? thank you for your awareness, you surrender, your wisdom, your heart. can feel your work all the way down this female lineage. loving you always <3

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