The Cracked Pot

The Cracked Water Pot

A water bearer in India had two large pots,
one hung on each end of a pole which he carried
across his neck. One of the pots had a crack
in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always
delivered a full portion of water at the end
of the long walk from the stream to the
master's house. The cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made.

But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it
spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."

Why?" asked the bearer.
"What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house.
Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some.
But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side?
That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them.
For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers
to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Moral:
Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots.
But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. There is a lot of good out there.



Isn't this so true in Motherhood as well? There are so many standards to live up to, or not. So many Soulemama's and Farmmama's and Perfectmama's and Livingsimplymama's and Ecomama's and Organichighpriestessmama's and Workinforalivinmama's and Followingmyblissmama's and Yummymama's and Mainstreammama's and Hipmama's and Spiritualysuperiormama's.....it's hard to be a DoingthebestIcanmama since the women's liberation movement. Not that I don't support equal rights or women's rights or women's right to equal liberation, I do. Sometimes it seems that as far as Motherhood goes anyways, there isn't really equal....the Mom will always be the Mom and being the mom requires a different sort of sacrifice, a different sort of surrender, a different meaning to the term "parenting". It's good to have those role models or "standards" to inspire us and help us set new goals and I believe it helps us find our tribe as Mothers. We align ourselves with others that think like us, live like us, parent like we do...it re enforces our values and sense that we are living well or doing a good job.

So, the only downside to all those role models and examples out there would be when we judge ourselves or others based on idealism's. Often when we are judging someone else it's not about them...in fact, it's never about them...it's about ourselves. Always. And so, ramble ramble, back to the cracked pot....my kids will always have something from their childhood to discuss with a therapist....but they are my flowers, each different and unique. And mabe one day they will appreciate my weaknesses as "gifts" that helped shape them into the wild and crazy flowers that they are!

Even if they never have socks that match and a billion others to sift through.

with love, Tricia