Winter May Not Have Broken. But I have.

Morgan Sessions.jpg

It’s the last day of October. I walk along the dirt track under bleak skies. Icy gales cut through my eight layers of clothes, reach into my core, and I have the thought:

Winter may not have broken. But I have. 

It’s not a moment of sadness for me. It’s a moment of triumph.

For oh, how this year has broken me.

But how much more has it changed me.

For when we are broken, we stand in our pile of rubble, wallow for a while over the destruction, eventually realise there is nothing left to do but rebuild.

We begin to put pieces of ourselves back together. Except, we soon realise they no longer fit as they once did. We are confused, scared, unsure what to do. We try to force ourselves back into the shape we once were; who we have always been, what we have always done. But it doesn’t work. We are forced to put ourselves back differently.

This unsettles us. We no longer recognise the person in the mirror, she doesn’t look the same, sound the same, think the same. We find ourselves unsure where we fit. We don’t belong where we once did. We feel stuck in limbo – pulled away from the place we were, homesick for a place we’ve not yet been.

We journey ahead, because there is little else to do. We journey ahead in search of our new selves, our new lives, our new tribes. It’s not a straight road. There are many detours on the way to finding our true hearts. There are days we are fearful of the unknown, days we turn and run back to the familiar. But we no longer find comfort there like we once did. We are too different, too changed; we no longer fit back into the places we once resided.

We journey until we find where we belong. Until we no longer want to look back.

Until we realise being broken was a gift.

Winter may not have broken, but we have.

And because of that, we are put back together stronger, wiser, braver, fiercer, more determined, unwavering.

We no longer look back, we look only toward days filled with unfettered warmth, light and hope.

Let yourselves break, dear hearts.

For it is the first step to finding your way home.

Photo courtesy Morgan Sessions via



2 thoughts on “Winter May Not Have Broken. But I have.

  1. Susan Piver: What do you do when your heart is broken? Leave it there.
    Ajan Brahm, Buddhist monk in Western Australia: Notice all the trees in the forest? Missing limbs, leaves chewed away by insects, rugged bark torn in places, trunk all twisted? THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL

    Liked by 1 person

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