Whole

How can we ever really be whole when we insist on dissecting ourselves into sections to find things that are wrong, things that are right?

We all do it.

My heart is strong, but my mind is weak.

My mind is strong, but my body lets me down.

The list goes on and on, like a river of sorrowful excuses cascading from a waterfall.

Many if not all classes I go to take this concept even further. The Teachers and the teachers they have followed dissect the body, mind, spirit, and soul into more pieces than I will ever be able to understand.

Maybe this is a good thing, letting us cope with our beautiful human flaws while searching for the impossible perceived perfection. But the truth is that the more I think about it, the more I question it.

Could splitting ourselves up into pieces, that all need work depending on who you are listening to or buying from just compound the feeling that we are swimming around in our souls with no fundamental understanding of ourselves as a whole, just searching for a safe port to weather the storm of personal betterment?

Could it be that we will never feel whole while we continue to explore every aspect of ourselves as a unique element instead of accepting ourselves as a beautiful entity?

I don’t have the answers; I am just a man who loves the questions. Although for me, there is something about viewing myself as a whole that just feels right.

This in no way means that I can not improve aspects of myself. Instead, it means that I can accept myself for who I know I am. In the knowledge that who I am, includes both good and not so good.

I am whole.