My Damn Experiment
So, I kept hearing this woo-woo idea floating around. You know the one: that broken people are somehow ‘more evolved’. Sounded like complete nonsense to me. Like some feel-good nonsense people tell themselves when life sucks. Ancient wisdom? Yeah right. But hey, I like testing things. So I figured, why not? Let’s see what breaks.
First thing I did was try real, hardcore mindfulness. Like, not just five minutes. I sat my ass down, crossed my legs, eyes closed, trying to observe every damn thought. Goal was simple: understand why broken = better. My brain? Oh man, it fought back. It immediately started yelling. “This is stupid! You have laundry! Remember that embarrassing thing you did in 5th grade? Pay the electric bill!” Seriously. That chatterbox wouldn’t quit. I lasted maybe fifteen minutes. Felt more agitated than when I started. Broken? More like annoyed. Evolved? Nope. Felt like failing Meditation 101.
Frustrated, I switched gears. Maybe physical limits were key? I pushed my stupid body harder during workouts. Ran an extra mile, did way too many reps. Woke up the next day stiff as a board, moving like a rusty tin man. Was this the “breaking point”? It just hurt. Like, plain old ordinary pain. Nothing profound here except sore quads and the urge to ice my knees. Definitely didn’t feel wiser or more advanced. Felt like an idiot pushing too hard.
Then came the actual breaking part. Life decided to throw a real curveball. Things at work got messy – deadlines piled up, tensions ran high. Personal life decided to join the party – misunderstandings, disappointment, the usual crappy drama. One night, after another effing frustrating conversation about expectations not being met, I just… broke. Snapped. Not violently, not screaming. It was quiet. I sat on the edge of my bed and it felt like something inside just… gave up resisting. Like hitting a wall, going splat, and then having no choice but to slide down it onto the floor, emotionally pancake-flat.
I cried. Ugly crying, snot and everything. Just sat there in my half-lit room, feeling utterly, completely shattered. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t planned. It was messy, embarrassing, and raw as hell. Completely involuntary breaking.
And then… nothing happened at first. Exhausted, I lay down. But slowly, over the next few days, something shifted. It was subtle. A weird kind of calm. The constant mental noise trying to fix everything, control every outcome, project a perfect image… the effort to keep that facade up? That weight? Gone. Because I couldn’t pretend anymore. My energy for building walls was just… exhausted.
That’s when the ancient wisdom started whispering. Not in words, but in a feeling. With the defenses down, the frantic effort to hide the cracks just stopped. And without that massive expenditure of energy, what was left? A startling clarity. Seeing myself, my situation, and other people’s struggles with less judgment, less fear. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was incredibly real. I wasn’t hiding the broken bits anymore, even to myself.
Turns out, the ‘evolution’ part isn’t about the breaking itself. It’s not about the cracks. It’s about what happens after you stop wasting all your energy pretending they don’t exist. That brokenness, when you finally stop fighting it and just let it be… makes you stop wasting energy on impossible pretenses. That’s the secret. Ancient? Yeah, probably. Obvious now? Hell yes. Evolved? Maybe just brutally honest for the first damn time.
