She handed me a ring from the locked jewelry case. I turned it over to look at the back first. “You must be in the industry,” the salesperson called me out.
I love to see how things are made. From the age of two, my mom would save anything that broke so I could take it apart. A tv, a toaster, a remote, anything. She said I would writhe in happiness taking it apart, like the first time I tried chocolate ice cream. Once I had finished disassembly, I would get sad it was over, then frustrated and embarrassed that I couldn’t put it back together.
After a while, my problem solver part would step in and make something new from all the pieces, like an invisibility gun – which inevitably didn’t work either.
While spiritual diving recently with one of my guides, I asked that young, happy, writhing part if it needed anything from me now. He just wanted me to watch him take things apart. Then, I showed him some of the pieces of complex fine jewelry and farm machines that I’ve made since. We both writhed together, the current me who loves to show off, and the younger me in awe.
I learned in that journey that the sadness, frustration, and embarrassment I experienced were not the same part of me that enjoyed taking the object apart. Nor was the problem solver. Learning this gives me permission to fully appreciate the joy on it’s own, without the guilt or the pride.
It also reminds me that I’m made of lots of little parts like those objects and I can put them back together in any order I like.
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