on the other side of broken

  

These past few weeks I have been taking an unexpected (mini) break from my blog and sifting through my dreams and struggles. Writing, writing, writing everything down..navigating the geography of my heart to make my way to center. I am in kind of a strange place right now where things feel scary and overwhelming yet...familiar too. As if I have been here before, as if every single step leading up to now...has prepared me for this time. It's a place that is full of possibility and shining...yet heavy with pain and loss. It's right here that I have the opportunity to stretch, to grow my wings...to move beyond who I am and step into who I am becoming. Ever since i picked up this book a few weeks ago, I have been writing down my soul. all my stories...some long forgotten + some that I am creating as I go along. It's deep + difficult + good. I am on the other side of broken.

                                        (On the Other Side of Broken, archival print available here!)
For so much (most) of my life, I was broken. So so broken. Straggling along, pretending to be something I was not (whole) and...flitting in and out of other people's lives + dreams, not even thinking about what I wanted. I was just limping along trying to hold all my pieces together, living in the past trying to make some sense of my childhood. Not trusting in my voice, dumbing down, going along...this was how I lived my life. There I was...navigating the fault lines of scars + sorrows. I didn't want my life defined by wound-ology...but I didn't know any other way. But little by little...my journey unfolded and my work found me.  The spiritual, mental and emotional work of finding/creating/loving/healing/trusting mySELF. It found me and has prepared me for now...the other side of broken. And what does this place look like??

Well..I think it's different for everyone but for me, it's all about... allowing. whatever emotions/moods/thoughts come about...I  allow allow allow. It's difficult and takes diligent practicing...every single day. And here's the paradox: the other side of broken allows us to be broken. No shame/blame/hiding/fixing. I still struggle struggle struggle...with pain, inadequacy, loss, not being enough. Some days I struggle with guilt so deep and wide...should I put off my art until Tara is older and in school? Should I get more rest so I can actually spend quality time with Tim instead of passing out on the sofa...exhausted, should I cross out some of the stuff on my (very long) to-do list?? Some days I struggle with depression...of things I wish that were but ...are not. Most days I feel that life is just zooming on by and I really should slow down. These are human struggles... aren't they? But...this place is different. my marriage + mothering has allowed me to blossom because it has given me roots + wings both. My friendships now allow me  to grow and flourish. And my art + blog allow me the space to create and write from my heart and soul. In this place I can set boundaries, speak my truth, walk away or be intimate. In these  places I am not trying to be someone I'm not. In this place i can claim all of my pieces with dignity, strength and grace...even the shameful pieces, the hurt ones and the very very broken ones. In this space I have people who love and support me through it all (never had that before), who accept me, who will witness my pieces and hold them in  a space of...allowing. Simply...allowing me. to. be. me. And with this gift in my hand + heart...I can journey to all of these places within mySELF. To the other side of broken. I believe the same is true for us all.

Interview with Jen Lee

"I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and you laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. "
                                                                                                -Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

                                             (Storyteller, Archival Print available here!)
Like so many of us, I place a high value on storytelling. When we lay claim to our stories with truth and vulnerability, when we share them and the lessons we have learned from them with clarity and courage...we open ourSELVES up to powerful forces within us. It is in the claiming and the telling that we can create the magic of healing and connecting. When we collect all of our pieces; our shame and resilience, our joy and vulnerability, our potential and our promise...then we can truly see ourSELVES. We, all of us, are storytellers. It is in our collective history and we, yes we!!, are the story keepers. So you see, when I first stumbled across storyteller, writer, photographer, truth-teller Jen Lee's blog about 6 months ago...I was smitten! She was gracious enough to allow me to interview her, so...here goes!

                                                                       (Jen Lee)
Do you feel that the role (and the art) of storytelling in our culture has been diminished or do you feel that blogs have replaced oral storytelling as the forum for claiming and sharing our stories?
Storytelling is definitely experience a resurgence in our culture as we reclaim the value of narrative. I don't think blogs have replaced oral storytelling at all, but I do believe they have played an important role and ushered us into a new era of media that is no longer under the complete control of gatekeepers. Our access to people's stories was previously quite limited--one could only access memoirs of people who had done something "of note". But through blogs we remembered that you don't have to have climbed Mt. Everest to tell a story that is compelling or universal. Early bloggers wrote candidly (unedited) about their often ordinary or common experiences, or they wrote about topics no one else would touch, and we were captivated.

 Do you feel that maintaining your authentic voice requires that you reveal all in your storytelling or can we just share the lessons learned? I think so many of us struggle with wanting to share our truth while still protecting the privacy of our family members.
I think this is a common struggle--it's definitely one I share. I'm not in the Reveal-All camp. Privacy IS a consideration, especially as we consider the impact our words can have on others, and the wide availability and permanence of online media, especially. When I think about keeping my voice intact, I think about finding a way to say what I need to say so that I don't feel silenced or censored. That doesn't mean I say all those things publicly, and sometimes I may write more about the experience than the exact situation, as you mentioned. I try to preserve my freedom *and* honor the connections which are so important to me.

                                                       (Finding Your Voice, Multimedia Course)
How do you prepare yourself for the writing process? Do you set aside a certain # of hours daily to write no matter what or do you write when you feel like it?
My work now has a lot of ebb and flow. Some seasons are more dominated by writing, some by teaching. I have really wordless spells (often on the tail end of the previous two) where I do more with photography or design and layout work. I used to worry a lot about writing every day, especially when I felt wordless, but I've learned over time that I usually need to rest and refill my well in those times and the words always come back. When I haven't been writing enough, I've learned to recognize that twitchy feeling I get as a result, and I attend to that as soon as I possibly can.
What do you think are some of the most important aspects of storytelling?
I think self-reflection is important--it helps to know why a story is important to us, and why it might matter to someone else. We need to know how the story changed us or what it means to be able to tell it in a way that strikes a universal chord.

(Jen Lee, Grand Slam)

You go up on stage and tell stories. Wow!! That takes big huge courage! What is that experience like for you?
It's like coming home, every time. It might sound strange, but I don't know how else to say it. It feels like being made for a moment, having everything that's come before for me align in some momentary fit. It defies explanation.
You recently published Finding Your Voice. From what I understand, it’s a multimedia resource which replicates the whole workshop experience. Can you share a little about it? What inspired this work?
Well, I'm not sure it replicates the workshop experience, but it's as close as I can get, short of actually being together in person (which itself is huge). This is really a path that has emerged as I've been on a journey of recovering my own voice from many, many years of reluctant silence and dealing with so many of the dilemmas that come along with that kind of shift. It's about finding a third way that's not Reveal and Tell All Leaving Whatever Bodies in Your Wake, and it's not If You Don't Have Something Nice to Say, Don't Say Anything at All. I needed another way--to feel true to myself and honor my connections, to treat my dear ones with compassion. Finding Your Voice is for anyone who could use that kind of path, too.

Jen Lee is a Brooklyn-based writer, photographer and a regular performer in NYC's storytelling scene, including the Peabody Award-winning Moth Radio Hour and The Moth Mainstage. Jen is an instructor for Squam Art Workshops and the creator of Finding Your Voice. She invites you to follow her on Twitter, and to download The Story Catcher.