Breaking bowls, breaking patterns

I have broken three bowls in two weeks. Surprisingly, I smiled each time. I have learned to look at anything that happens with bowls in my life as some sort of Divine sign. These three broken bowls mean something.

These bowls are kitchen bowls. Used for soup and cereal, we have had them for almost two decades. As a family of five, we've gone from seven bowls to now four. It means we can't all eat cereal or soup at the same time. We either take turns or get creative and use mugs as bowls. A sense of order is broken, shattered even, but it seems to be okay this time.

I find myself rejoicing in these broken bowls because it means there is now space for new ones. I am not going to go and buy someone else's creation but make my own. Okay, I know it sounds a bit crazy, but I have wanted to make a set of dishes and bowls for some time now. Maybe this is why pottery has reappeared in my life. Maybe this is why the bowls have broken. A push into a new pattern. My creative self accepts the invitation to make the bowls I have dreamed of making. My real self awakens.

While this making of bowls will take time, and I will be the one using a mug for soup, I am learning to stay open. And I am learning to let go. There are a whole set of life patterns I would like to shatter on the floor. In one swoosh, I could break them, sweep, gather, and bin them. Ah, if it could be that easy!

More and more I am see life as a journey to the self , the real self, the real me and the real you. We are all pilgrims on this journey. My journey happens to be one in which I carry bowls. When bowls appear, I am more aware of Divine presence. You probably have your own motifs, your own Divine signs and symbols. We also all have life patterns or paths that help us find the real self. Sometimes we outgrow the paths and patterns. Sometimes we need to shatter those patterns, sweep, gather, and bin them in order to make room for the new.

I am not so good at the letting go process, but my eyes and my heart and my ears are tuned in to seeing and feeling and listening differently thanks to my broken bowls. For now, I am like the bowl--more open. I wonder what pattern has been hibernating all these years and now wants to speak.

I wait and I listen.