Sometimes she feels like an onion being peeled by expert Hands. No, not a butterfly mid-metamorphosis, but a big violet onion. As each layer is peeled away, she becomes less purple and more lilac. That’s not too bad, she thinks to herself, as she lets go of many things she knows. Deep down, there’s still some shade of violet in her.
Each thin layer removed, reveals more thin layers. She has a way to go, it is true, even if there’s so much of her already spread all over the kitchen floor. She realizes it’s the nature of the beast, this situation of changing skin.
There was joy at times, when the revelations came. Look ma, no tears and it felt like it had always meant to feel that great.
Other times, tears flowed as the layers of skin came off. The fumes stung her eyes and the truth hit her heart. That can’t be wrong, she thought, as she wept away the pain.
Still, other questions with the same spirit plague her heart as she watches more and more of the purple and translucent layers come off. Some revelations she willingly accepts, others she needs some time to stomach, then face because the past can be cruel and it doesn’t lie.
She patiently waits though. She is convinced the joy will come back again.
It always comes back. That’s the promise.
For today she soldiers on, layer after layer.
She wonders what she will find at the core of it all,
if she hasn’t already found what she’s looking for.
grateful slice: patience and the seasons