This morning I was thinking about all the ways I am going to miss NC. My instant reaction was, “My soul broke open here” but a mere second later I thought, “no that’s not quite right.” It’s not. I went through tremendous growth here, so what could I liken it to? Perhaps not quite the sexiest analogy, but the one that comes closest is that my growth here has been like a blister. I know. I know. You don’t want to hear about my blister. That sounds gross. But, if I haven’t completely lost you, hear me out…
When a blister happens, there is usually some form of friction. Something rubbing up against resistance – oh I don’t know, like for example, a soul that wants to be set free while the human form it resides in just wants to remain in it’s comfortably uncomfortable little existence. Check.
The blister grows to the point of utter discomfort where you know you NEED to relieve the pain. My soul did this. It grew until I knew something had to give, I no longer had a choice to remain in my small little world ignoring the insistence of my soul.
At this point, I knew I had to pop that sucker and leave the wound raw, painful, vulnerable and need to scab over or take a tiny pin to it and allow the pressure to be relieved while the healing was done under the protection of the remaining old, soon to be renewed skin. As difficult a choice as that was (as you can imagine…) I chose the latter.
My soul did not break open in Raleigh. It’s just sort of slowly leaking out. Still quite painful, but in a much more manageable way. One day, maybe soon, maybe years down the road; I will look back at this time with gratitude and know that that blister has healed. I expect it won’t be sudden, just a kind of quiet awe where I will be able to say to myself, “huh, would you look at that. No more blister. I have healed.”