Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Scrambled Eggs

With a hard bang, crack the shell on the counter. Pop the shell open  so the insides ooze out in to the bowl.

Change comes hard, with pain, moving me out of my comfort zone, breaking me away from what has been familiar and pleasant.

Throw away the shell. Or, toss it in the compost where it can revert to a dark, moist, earthy loam.

Cast the stuff aside, get rid of what was just a shell, just a cover over the stuff I really want or need. The process of moving forces a re-evaluation of everything I own. All of the stuff that was our home comes under scrutiny.

Mix the sunny yokes with the slimy whites, stirring with speed and quick motions. Whipped. Around and around, against the edges of the bowl, thrown back and forth until they become a foamy white.

During a move, my insides are out there for everyone to see. Those deep and dark corners with all their dust and clutter and never-cleaned spots are revealed for all to see. Hidden, normally untouched, all of it is tossed or boxed and opened to the light of day. The areas I had hid, unwilling to deal with, become urgent matters that have to be faced. Ugh, like the slimy egg whites, changed to a usable substance. Or tossed.

Heat butter or oil in the frying pan until it sizzles and pops. Maybe add some chopped onion for flavor.

Tension and  pressure are the heat that reveal who we are and opens our insides, turns us inside out.

Tilt the bowl and slide the eggs into the hot pan.

Into the heat. A move to a new house, a new state, throws me right into the sizzling frying pan.

Let it sit a moment or two, then stir. Gently, but stir, until the liquid solidifies into yellow lumps of delicious warmth.

Mixed up, confused, lost. Where did I put that [whatever]? Disoriented, not sure what state I am in. But, the new house becomes something better, beautiful, pleasant, happy. Together, here.

For me, scrambled eggs are a comfort food, a reminder of the breakfasts my mom would cook for us before she sent us out into the world. Her way of saying, "I care."

Add a little cheese for color, for extra flavor.

We are moved, comfortable. We sit at our old table in the new dining room, together, enjoying the rewards of hard work, fresh memories of our family working together, laughing together, accomplishing an adventure together - the miles traveled together on the road, the heavy loads lifted and moved, together. I am blessed, and grateful.

1 comment:

  1. Thank YOU JESUS! So glad you're safe and sound. Great metaphors!