Living in the layers too….. saw this quote from a favorite essayist that seems to be weaving from similar threads. Perhaps you’ll agree. 🙏🏻
“There should be a word for this: the ache of catching up to your own becoming.
I think of a tree that has lost a branch in a storm. The wound does not seal overnight. The tree doesn’t pretend the limb was never there. Instead, over time, it grows around the loss. It integrates it. The scar becomes part of the shape of the tree, visible but no longer raw. Perhaps this is what integration looks like: not erasure, but incorporation.”
Love this, Zyn. Heard this elsewhere, but the idea that the wreckage becomes the compost. Like you’re saying, the scars become integrated. Yes, yes, yes 😊
Living in the layers too….. saw this quote from a favorite essayist that seems to be weaving from similar threads. Perhaps you’ll agree. 🙏🏻
“There should be a word for this: the ache of catching up to your own becoming.
I think of a tree that has lost a branch in a storm. The wound does not seal overnight. The tree doesn’t pretend the limb was never there. Instead, over time, it grows around the loss. It integrates it. The scar becomes part of the shape of the tree, visible but no longer raw. Perhaps this is what integration looks like: not erasure, but incorporation.”
~Isabel Abbot
Love this, Zyn. Heard this elsewhere, but the idea that the wreckage becomes the compost. Like you’re saying, the scars become integrated. Yes, yes, yes 😊