Breaking

When you break a vase, it disappears; it shatters into tiny pieces and ceases to exist in the shape it previously had. With time, its parts become dust, and after a while, some of its parts might come back as another object, or they simply remain in nature. The memory of it remains only while the people who owned it remember it.

The vase didn’t contain life as you know it, and therefore you try to forget it as soon as you can. Why should you remember something like a vase?
But you do remember all the events in this life and in all your other lives. They remain recorded in each of your cells and are a reminder of all you have survived through.
And when you, one day, break and turn into dust, your memories and your consciousness will remain. You return to a new life and bring with you all your parts, like a good handyman who never goes anywhere without his tools.
You think you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t carry with you all your little things. And by “little things” we mean all the events, all the memories, all that you once were.
And in doing so, you take away some of your freedom. You’re constantly struggling to live the life that you expect of yourself, the life that all the people you once were expect.
These expectations stop you from living life; instead, you play a game which you imposed upon yourself where most of you doesn’t feel entirely good and free.
When you add to that all the expectations of your close and distant family members, your friends, your entire surroundings, you cramp up, and it becomes impossible to clearly see and experience what is natural to you—freedom.
You’ve lost it somewhere along the way, and most of you spend all your life looking for something, and what most of you are actually looking for is freedom. Taking care of your day-to-day obligations, you go from one day to the next, like some sort of machine that you constructed, and you live a kind of life that your imagination doesn’t see, the kind that your heart and soul don’t want to feel. This is not written down for you anywhere. The one thing you have is freedom, and that’s what you keep on taking away from yourself.
Try to turn yourself into a vase. Imagine yourself as a beautiful vase with beautiful colors, full of flowers. You’re adorning a large, extravagant table, and your beauty is attracting looks from everyone. And then you break. Watch yourself rolling onto the ground and shattering into thousands of pieces, knowing your pieces will never again be what they had been.
Then close your eyes and relax. Surrender to a moment of nothingness, a moment of being in the moment. Let go and be. When you feel you’re ready, open your eyes. Look, feel yourself, welcome your new birth. Allow yourself freedom.
You’ll gain so much new space, which you’ll be able to use for all of the new and wonderful things you want in your life. Allow your emotions to wash over you and congratulate yourself. You have reason to. You’ve just given yourself freedom.
And then live. Take a step forward and get moving, towards everything that awaits you, towards the life that you want. And don’t worry if changes don’t come suddenly; live and rejoice.
You possess that which is most important—freedom, and everything else will come on its own.
When you realize that you’re the one who creates obstacles, you’ll be able to remove them. If you can’t, break yourself again, again, and again. Do that until you realize that by breaking yourself, you’re not destroying yourself because you are indestructible; you’re removing everything you don’t need, all the things you’re carrying with you on your journey, all the things that limit you.
What remains is freedom, and you within it, as a life which lives and is happy.