Cracks

Lake Minnewanka stretches out lazily through the low, pine dotted mountains,

 of Spectral Peak, Mt. Girouard, Mt. Costigan and Saddle Peak. Long and narrow and a vivid aquamarine blue that rivals the robins egg blue of the clear morning sky, it curves precisely around the base of its surrounding mountains, capturing their reflection in its mirror like surface. A surface smooth and even and frozen solid in the January cold, so that people flock to it with their skates and glide across it smiling and laughing and hollering with delight. And when you venture out onto its smooth expanse you can look down into its depths with wonder because the smooth, even, expanse when viewed up close is filled with the most amazing and beautiful inconsistencies. Stacks of bubbles frozen in their ascent to the surface. Deep cracks that glitter with a spectrum of blues and veins of sparkling white. A thing breathtaking from afar in its perfection and uniformity becomes even more stunning and moving as you begin to see all the imperfections that appear just under the surface.

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We all have deep cracks that run through our souls from the hurts

Maybe people are like that too. We all have our imperfections. We all have deep cracks that run through our souls from the hurts, the disappointments, the rejections, the failures. Sometimes these cracks are so deep that they never fully go away. They may fade and even disappear in our summers, the times when things are warm and fluid and joyful. But they always reappear in our winters, when things are cold and rigid and hard. Maybe even with these hurts stretching through us we can still be solid and safe and support laughter, though. Life is full of imperfection and hurt. But it’s also full of joy and goodness and laughter. I don’t think they have to be isolated from one another. I think they can exist in tandem, like people skating and laughing on top of a frozen and scarred lake. I think that they can compliment one another. I think sometime others can look into our souls and see the deep cracks that run through us and find beauty and courage in those flaws.

I was raised by a Bi-polar mother

I was raised by a Bi-polar mother. My father bailed when I was very young and was never around for us growing up. My mother, at her worst, was verbally, physically and emotionally abusive. Terrifying and unfathomable to the mind and eyes of a small child. My mother, at her best, would make me feel like anything was possible and take us to do things that many kids don’t have the opportunity to do. At her best, she showed us how magic and sacred the world could be. Growing up with a mentally ill parent has left a deep crack in my soul. It will always be with me. I will forever be marked by the extremes I lived through as a child. But I choose to see the beauty and the complexity and the dimension that those marks have given me.

Every last one of us has our cracks and flaws. My wish is for anyone who feels their imperfections make them lesser, to try and understand that they make you even more attractive and profound, if you can learn to be solid despite them. If you can proudly display your cracks to the world as glittering seams of courage and perseverance people will look at them and exclaim in wonder. The same way that I exclaimed in wonder at the cracks and bubbles that are housed in the glass of Lake Minnewanka.

 

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