Recently, I had some pretty devastating news.
I found out that my mumma has a terminal illness and doesn't have too much time left to hang out here on mumma earth, and that makes my heart hurt.
When I found out, I cried. I cried for all the arguments we've had, I cried for the fact that I won't have a mumma, I cried because I didn't want her to hurt. I cried because I was fretful, I cried because I was fearful, I cried because I was hurting. I literally cried 'til I broke.
So I created. I painted, I drew and I made goddess girls out of clay.
I'd been so proud of one particular creation, I'd sculpted her hour-glass curves, her hair was flowing in the wind, she'd been pretty much perfect. Except in the baking process, when the oven got too hot, she broke. Like me, when the pressure of having to change and transform occurred, she broke. It was then, at that moment, that I felt the full awesomeness that is Akhilandeshvari.
Akhilandeshvari is the goddess of never not broken. The double negative is meant to emphasise the truth of Her total brokenness. This goddess-girl from Hindu mythology, teaches us that, in that moment, you know the one I’m talking about, the one when you feel lost, alone and in a Bridget Jones-style heap on the floor wailing ‘All By Myself’ at the top of your lungs, you are more powerful and full of awesome than you’ve EVER been. It's hard to believe, but it's true.
‘Ishvari’ in Sanskrit means ‘goddess’ or ‘female power’, and the ‘Akhilanda’ means essentially, ‘never not broken’. In other words, The Always Broken Goddess. But we’re not talking about the ‘ohh, I’m so weak, poor me’ kinda broken. Hell to the freakin’ no. It’s the kind of broken that tears apart all the stuff that gets us stuck in a rut, a toxic groove, repeating bad habits and icky relationships.
Akhilanda gets her power from being broken: pulling herself apart and, living in a state of flux, which seems like really freakin’ scary stuff, right? But if you never become a fully sorted individual, and lets face it, I’m not sure any of us really ever do, or ‘should’ for that matter, you’ll never have limitations, and when there’s no limitations? You have freedom. Sweet, sweet delicious freedom.
Any situation where our future, as we perceive it, is whipped out from under us – like my mumma being diagnosed with a terminal illness, our heart is ripped to shreds by a failed relationship, a loved one dies, we lose our job, our money situ changes – is both daunting and terrifying in equal measures, because we all like the sensation of feeling comfort, of being in a routine, of thinking we know what’s going to happen next – it’s tried, it’s tested, it’s safe. So when that routine is’s thrown into turmoil, or we’re forced to step out of our comfy space, and we’re left feeling… y’know, broken, the awesomeness of Akhilanda says, ‘g-friend, when you’re in this state o’ flux, you’ve got a choice to make.’ When you’re on the floor, broken in little pieces, with no idea how you’re ever going to pick yourself up again, you’re in the absolute most delicious place of all, a place where you can start a new. YOU get to choose how you put yourself back together.
Life will always throw you curveballs, shitty stuff has, does, and will happen, but YOU are the mistress of your destiny. Don’t let life happen to you, work with the energy of Akhilanda and continually co-create awesome versions of yourself from the broken place of possibility.
Scary? Oh yes. Exciting? Abso-freakin’–lutely. In the words of Julie JC Peters, ‘in our brokenness, we are unlimited. And that means we are amazing.’
High fives to that!