Finding beauty, healing, and new beginnings in unexpected places
I was walking along, minding my business, when I happened to look down.
And there it was.
A bunch of old, broken bricks with moss and these tiny little plants growing between them.
Now, anybody who knows me knows I love nature. Trees, moss, roots, greenery, all of it. There’s just something about the way nature exists that fascinates me.
So naturally, I stopped to look.
And the more I looked, the more beautiful it became.
Here were these bricks, cracked, chipped, weathered, and broken in places. Nothing particularly special about them. Probably something most people walk over every day without giving a second thought.
But right there, between all that brokenness, was life.
Green, vibrant, growing life.
And of course, my mind started wandering.
Because that’s what I do. I see something in nature, and before I know it, I’m thinking about life, healing, the human experience, and all the things we go through.
And this time, I was thinking about my own life.
All the things I’ve experienced. The things I’ve had to rebuild. The parts of myself I’ve had to rediscover. The seasons when life didn’t look anything like what I thought it would.
Yet here I am.
Still growing.
And that’s when the thought came to me.
There is growth amid brokenness.
I pulled out my phone, took a couple of pictures, and thought, Oh yeah, this is a blog post.
Because sometimes the most meaningful lessons aren’t found in a book, a classroom, or somebody else’s words.
Sometimes they’re growing right beneath your feet.
Maybe Brokenness Isn’t the End of the Story
We spend so much time believing that we have to put ourselves back together before we can begin growing again.
That somehow we have to heal every wound, make peace with every disappointment, resolve every struggle, and get our lives in order before we can move forward.
But who told us that?
Who decided that growth could only happen once everything was whole?
Look at these bricks.
They’re broken. Some pieces are missing entirely. The foundation isn’t pretty or perfect. Yet life has found its way into the spaces between them.
And not just life. A whole little ecosystem is developing right there.
The moss didn’t ask whether the bricks were worthy of supporting it.
The tiny plants didn’t wait for the ground to become something more suitable.
They simply began growing where they could.
And that got me thinking.
There are seasons in our lives when things fall apart.
Relationships end. Plans change. People disappoint us. We lose things we thought we’d always have. Sometimes we lose parts of ourselves trying to hold everything else together.
And sometimes the breaking isn’t dramatic at all.
Sometimes it’s years of carrying responsibilities, swallowing emotions, surviving circumstances, and waking up every morning doing what needs to be done.
Until one day you realize you’re tired.
Not just physically tired, but tired somewhere deep inside yourself.
And still, somehow, you’re growing.
Maybe you’re learning to establish boundaries where you once allowed people unlimited access to you.
Maybe you’re finally listening to your body instead of pushing through every warning it gives you.
Maybe you’re questioning beliefs you’ve carried for decades.
Maybe you’re learning how to sit with yourself without needing to fill every quiet moment.
Or maybe your growth looks like getting out of bed, feeding yourself something nourishing, and deciding that today you’re going to try again.
That’s growth too.
We have to stop measuring growth only by the things other people can see.
The Cracks Are Not Your Entire Identity
Here’s something else I noticed.
When I looked at those bricks, I could have focused entirely on how damaged they were.
I could have seen nothing but deterioration.
But that’s not what caught my attention.
It was the green.
The life.
The contrast between something that appeared to be falling apart and something else that was quietly coming into being.
And isn’t that interesting?
Because sometimes we become so focused on what’s broken in our lives that we overlook what’s growing.
We see the relationship that didn’t work, but not the discernment we developed because of it.
We see the opportunities we missed, but not the wisdom we’ve gained.
We see the years we spent surviving, but fail to recognize the strength, resourcefulness, and understanding we cultivated along the way.
Now, I’m not going to sit here and tell you that everything happens for a reason or that every painful experience was somehow necessary for your growth.
I don’t believe we have to romanticize suffering to find meaning in our experiences.
Some things hurt. Some things were unfair. Some things should never have happened.
Period.
But those experiences don’t get to dictate the entirety of who we become.
What happened to you is part of your story. It is not the totality of your existence.
And maybe that’s something we need to remind ourselves of more often.
We are not simply the sum of everything that has gone wrong.
We are also everything that has continued to grow despite it.
Growth Doesn’t Always Look Like What We Imagined
Think about the moss for a moment.
It’s not a towering tree.
It doesn’t have beautiful blossoms demanding everyone’s attention.
It’s small. Quiet. Close to the earth.
But it is doing exactly what it was designed to do.
Growing.
Holding moisture. Creating habitat. Participating in the living environment around it.
It doesn’t need to become something else to have value.
And I wonder how often we forget that about ourselves.
We’re constantly being encouraged to become bigger, better, more productive, more successful, more visible.
But what about becoming more rooted?
More present?
More aware of what nourishes us and what drains us?
What about learning to recognize when we’ve outgrown an environment, a relationship, a habit, or even an old version of ourselves?
Sometimes growth isn’t about adding more.
Sometimes it’s about releasing what no longer belongs.
Sometimes it’s about resting.
Sometimes it’s about making a different choice than the one you’ve made a hundred times before.
And sometimes it’s about allowing yourself to exist without constantly trying to prove that you’re healing.
Not all growth is visible. Not all progress is measurable. And not every season of your life is meant to produce something for somebody else.
Some seasons are simply about becoming.
You Don’t Have to Put Every Broken Piece Back Together
Something else stood out to me as I continued looking at those bricks.
The moss wasn’t repairing them.
It wasn’t trying to fill every crack or restore the walkway to what it once was.
It was simply growing among what remained.
And I think there’s something important in that.
Because when we talk about healing, we often talk about putting ourselves back together.
Getting back to who we used to be.
Returning to the person we were before the disappointment, the heartbreak, the loss, or whatever experience changed us.
But what if we’re not supposed to go back?
What if the goal isn’t to become who we were before?
What if healing sometimes means accepting that certain experiences have changed us and allowing ourselves to become someone new?
Not someone hardened by everything we’ve endured.
Not someone who builds walls so high that nothing can get through.
But someone who has learned.
Someone who recognizes patterns.
Someone who understands the importance of boundaries, nourishment, rest, and self-respect.
Someone who no longer feels obligated to squeeze themselves back into spaces they’ve outgrown.
Now, that doesn’t mean we abandon the parts of ourselves that are hurting or pretend the damage doesn’t exist.
Some things absolutely need attention, care, and repair.
But we don’t have to reconstruct every piece of our past to create something meaningful in our present.
Sometimes the life we’re cultivating now isn’t meant to look anything like the life we had before.
And that’s okay.
What Are You Feeding in the Spaces Between?
At GreenHouzeEatz, I often ask:
What Eatz within the GreenHouze are you feeding yourself?
And looking at these photographs brought that question into another perspective.
Because even in the broken spaces, something is being nourished.
The moss is receiving moisture. The tiny plants are finding nutrients. Life is responding to the conditions around it.
So what are we nurturing within ourselves?
Are we feeding the belief that because something fell apart, we are somehow less valuable?
Are we continuously revisiting old wounds without giving ourselves room to experience anything new?
Are we nourishing resentment, fear, and self-doubt?
Or are we beginning to cultivate something different?
A little more self-respect.
A little more compassion.
A little more patience with our own becoming.
This doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine when it isn’t.
It means recognizing that even while we’re working through the difficult parts of life, we can still create conditions that support our well-being.
We can nourish ourselves while we heal.
We can establish boundaries while we learn.
We can experience joy while we’re still grieving.
We can build something meaningful even when other parts of our lives remain unfinished.
And sometimes that nourishment starts with the simplest things.
Getting enough rest.
Eating foods that support our bodies.
Spending time outdoors.
Moving our bodies.
Being mindful of the conversations we entertain and the environments we continue to place ourselves in.
Learning when to say no.
Learning when to walk away.
Learning when to sit still and allow ourselves to simply be.
None of these things magically erase what we’ve experienced.
But they help create an environment within ourselves where something healthier can begin to take root.
We do not have to wait until we are completely healed to begin living.
Sometimes Beauty Is Right Beneath Our Feet
I keep coming back to the fact that I almost could have missed this entire moment.
I could have continued walking.
I could have looked at those bricks and seen nothing more than a walkway in need of repair.
And technically, that’s exactly what it was.
But it was also something else.
A reminder that life is constantly unfolding around us, often in places we wouldn’t think to look.
Nature doesn’t always present its beauty in grand landscapes, magnificent waterfalls, or towering forests.
Sometimes it’s a little patch of moss growing between broken bricks.
Sometimes it’s a tiny plant pushing through a crack in the sidewalk.
Sometimes it’s a tree growing in a place where you can’t imagine how its roots ever found enough room.
And sometimes it’s us.
Still showing up.
Still learning.
Still finding reasons to laugh, love, create, and dream, even after life has given us plenty of reasons to do otherwise.
I’ve always loved the way nature teaches without saying a word.
It doesn’t demand that we understand its lessons.
It simply exists.
And when we’re paying attention, there’s so much we can learn from it.
Not because nature has all the answers to our human experiences, but because observing it can invite us to see our own lives from another perspective.
And sometimes a different perspective is exactly what we need.
A Final Reflection: Look for What’s Growing
I don’t know how long those bricks have been broken.
I don’t know how many seasons of rain, snow, heat, and cold they’ve endured.
And I don’t know when that first little patch of moss began to grow.
But I know what I saw.
Life emerging in a place that didn’t look particularly welcoming.
And it reminded me that growth doesn’t always require perfect conditions.
Sometimes it begins in the smallest opening.
Sometimes it happens quietly, without recognition or applause.
And sometimes, while we’re so busy looking at everything that has fallen apart, we fail to notice the life that’s already taking root.
So wherever you find yourself in this season, I want you to consider something.
What if you’re not as stagnant as you think?
What if some of the changes you’ve been making, the boundaries you’ve been establishing, the things you’ve been questioning, and the ways you’ve been learning to care for yourself are evidence that something within you is already growing?
You may still have broken pieces.
You may still have unfinished business.
You may still be figuring out what comes next.
But none of that means your growth has stopped.
And no, you don’t have to celebrate everything that broke you.
You don’t have to be grateful for every painful experience.
You don’t even have to have it all figured out.
But perhaps you can begin recognizing the beauty in what you’ve managed to cultivate along the way.
I looked down that day and saw broken bricks.
But what made me stop was the life growing between them.
And maybe that’s the reminder I needed.
Stop looking only at what’s broken. Take a moment to recognize what’s growing.
Because sometimes the most beautiful parts of our lives are the ones we almost overlook.
A Moment to Reflect
Take a few moments with these questions. You might even want to sit outside, take a walk, or spend some time journaling.
- Where in my life have I been focusing more on what’s broken than on what’s growing?
- What small changes have I made that deserve acknowledgment?
- Am I allowing myself to grow at my own pace, or am I comparing my journey to someone else’s?
- What needs nourishment in my life right now?
- Are there pieces of my past that I’ve been trying to put back together, even though I’ve already outgrown them?
- What beauty might I be overlooking in my present circumstances?
You don’t have to answer them all today.
Just sit with whatever comes up.
And the next time you’re outside, take a moment to look around.
You never know what nature might be showing you.
Growth isn’t always loud. Healing isn’t always visible. And brokenness doesn’t mean life has stopped.
Plant • Heal • Evolve.
Mecca Lee
Founder, GreenHouzeEatz
Practical Methodz for Sovereign Wellnez
