I was so uncomfortable with my mistakes, I was so resistant to my mistakes and failures. I was pushing them away. I was even unable to accept these things happened to me. I felt ashamed, guilty and sad. I tried to hide it. I pretended nothing wrong inside me. It made me more miserable…. I was like a thin rag torn and devastated. With sadness, anger, resentment and guilt I threw away the torn pieces. I tried to hate them. I allowed so many to walk on the torn pieces, allowed many to hurt me badly. I realised i was addicted to enjoy that deep pain. I was afraid of the advice available around still pretended i’m hard to crack. As the days went on, I realised i’m getting more and more fragmented… I felt like my torn pieces thirsted to unite.
AN INNER VOICE WHISPERED ME TO PICK UP THE PIECES. I ignored it. But it repeated… I told it to keep quiet, still it whispered “ Pick the pieces…” I came up with a logic and said ” Those pieces were ugly and lost… lost forever…. ” With same calmness and love the Voice repeated “ Pick the pieces…” This time i din’t resist. I walked all the way back and collected them. The pieces of the fabric were not as colourful as they were before… I felt it as a handful of waste…. I tried hard not to cry … Looking at it, I asked myself ” Who will love it ? Who will like to own it? ” “Nobody will…”, I thought. “I will…” There came the inner voice again. I was not able to believe it first, as i din’t hear such a reply from anybody before. “ I love the pieces, though how ugly and badly they are torn…. I need them for you.” I was not able to resist that unconditional love in the voice. I wept bitterly.
The soft and affectionate advice went on, ” Pick the pieces one by one and stitch them together ….” I did it with the first two… then with the third and so forth. I found myself getting more relieved. People around approached me and asked me to show it. I was so ashamed to show them the ugly torn rag stitched together. I looked at them pathetically and said ” No”. “Show them what you have..“, I got the inner voice again… I showed them it. They laughed at me and went away.
Now I’m getting more comfortable with my mistakes and those of the people around because I KNOW, I’M MADE UP OF PIECES OF MISTAKES STITCHED TOGETHER WITH A GOOD INTENTION. NO OTHER FEELING OTHER THAN GRATITUDE FILLS MY HEART.
I, still continue stitching When I get free time, I used to listen to the affectionate inner voice. I’m getting the directions… getting more and more happiness. The only thing I noticed is I need to be silent in order to get directions from the inner voice.