Sunday Scribblings {skin}

I.

I balance it carefully in my hand inspecting its orange flesh before I begin to tear the skin away.  Sometimes it yields willingly.  Other times it puts up a bit of a fight.  But once I've made it past the thick layer of protection I find what I hunger for--the juicy sweetness that waits inside.  The smell of citrus rises to meet my nose.  The sticky juices runs down my wrist.  My hands are stained with the color of its skin.  I break it in half then tenderly pull each turgid wedge away from the whole, delicious crescents piling up on my plate.  One by one I lift them to my mouth letting the juice tickle my tongue and run down my lips.  There is so much behind the skin that can't be seen until it is peeled away.  So much that is sweet and filling.  So much that has the capacity to quench thirst and fill hunger.  Surely an orange is a holy and sacred thing.

II.

I gently blow the scrap on his knee after each application of soapy water.  I'm careful, tender, making certain I don't press the rag too harshly against his freshly skinned knee.  When the blood as been wiped clean and the damage assessed I issue that final measure of loving care, a band-aid and a kiss,  then I lift him from the counter, placing his tiny sniffling body on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.  There are tears, a few, but they won't last long.  Soon the sting will be forgotten, soon the band-aid will be something to show off, a ploy to get a little sympathetic attention.  The tears are more about the shock than the pain.  They are the glistening wet evidence of the realization that life can change so quickly.  One minute the peals of laughter as he zoomed around the sidewalk on his scooter.  And then, in a split second, the wails from skinned knees and a bruised ego.  But soon he's back at it again.  He's forgotten the pain and is willing to accept that wiping out is a risk one takes when choosing to fly around the backyard like a crazy person.  Life is like that--joy, happiness, growth, all things we claim to be good and beautiful, then the wipe out.  The falling on our faces, skinning the tender knees of our heart, tending to the bleeding places, being ever so gentle with the bruised ones.  And what usually follows, some times sooner than other times, is the getting back up again.  The waking to face another day.  The daring to open back up to life.  Acknowledging the risks one takes in choosing to breathe again and again.

III.

I sit cross-legged in front of the mirror the candlelight softly highlighting the left side of my face.  I lean closer, mere inches from the mirror.  I see freckles scattered all over my face--a gift from my father.  I see the dark circles around my eyes--a gift from my son.  I see the wrinkles beginning to find a home around my eyes and mouth--a gift of time.  I see my skin, with each little mole and scar making it uniquely mine.  Here is where I come to meet myself: in front of the mirror, nothing distracting me from whatever I find behind my eyes.  I look deeply into my creamy skin, into the brown I can almost drown in, into the pores that lead to mysterious places.  I look deeply into the image reflected back at me so that I can memorize every detail of my skin.  I look deeply because underneath, when I peel it all away, is the sweet juiciness of who I really am.  I need this time to be with her.  I need to remember she's there.  I need to loose myself in my skin and burrow deeper within to the place where everything that is essential dwells.  Yes, I have skinned my heart so many times.  The evidence is in my face.  But I have also blown away the stinging pain, again and again.  And after the tears, after the illusions have run head on into the brick wall of reality, I have gotten back up.  Everyday I get back up again.  Everyday I wipe the blood away from my skinned knees.  Everyday I peel into myself, in a hungry desire to find that sweet juiciness I know is waiting there just under my skin.

Comments

[Jerri]

Love this post. The parallels you built between the vignettes are brilliant.

It takes courage to peel into yourself, and you surely have that.

[Darlene]

1
2
3 times delighted!

:)
XxxD

[Mardougrrl]

As always, such gorgeous writing. You always go deeply into the perfect image--wonderful layers of metaphor and language and just gah, gorgeous writing!

I repeat myself.

Just keep doing whatever it is you are doing. I'll always be here to soak it up with glee.

xoxo
Mon

[kristen]

Oh how I love this Michelled. Each section is like a layer of skin, I just loved this!

[susanna]

Good post! I particularly liked your words: "Life is like that--joy, happiness, growth, all things we claim to be good and beautiful, then the wipe out." We just need to pull ourselves up and get on that board again.

[wendy]

Oh the skinned knee of life. I miss my girls skinned knees. They are of the age where they hide their hurts from me. I am no longer magic. I am human. Enjoy your days of childhood. Very good pc.

[samantha]

Brown eyes are the best - I confess to loving my own VERY MUCH. My mother used to tell me that she got them from a brown eye tree.

Such wonderful, alive writing - from the orange to the skinned knee to you and your precious freckled face. Where you say, "I need to be with her." Yes you do. Feed yourself, with sacred, holy oranges, and know yourself. What a gift to give to yourself, to those who love you.

[kristine]

This is beautiful and amazing and so sweetly reflective. I enjoyed reading it like a book you wish just wouldn't end.

[gkgirl]

wow
you have really outdone
yourself on this one!
this was perfect...
the circular, tying it all
together...
i loved it...
mesmerizing.

[jos]

I want to be careful about saying perfect to you, but...it is what it is!!

[bella]

beautiful glimpses Michelle into your thoughts on the skin prompt. I'd been thinking about maybe using the skin of a fruit, and I tried, bu I couldn't do it any justice! I loved reading this.

[madeleine]

'Yes, I have skinned my heart so many times.  The evidence is in my face. '

i love these words, Michelle. they shone out to me, just as they idea of peeling the layers and discovering the juicy self within.
oh and how juicy. get the bowl ready, girl.

beautiful analogies...beautiful sentiments
xxx

[Frankie]

Oh Michelle, I love, love, love this!!! What gorgeous imagery. I love how beautiful and sensual and moving everything you write is. My skin? Covered in goosebumps every time I reach the end of one of your posts. I especially loved the line "I look deeply because underneath, when I peel it all away, is the sweet juiciness of who I really am." Perfect, simply perfect. xoxo

[deirdre]

Each portion of this piece is beautiful. You've done a great job of drawing me in to the sacred in the everday.

[DebR]

Aaaahhh, that was such a wonderful post, Michelle. I always love to read what you come up with.

[Marilyn]

Love, love, LOVE this post! Beautifully written, Michelle. "skinned my heart"...hoo boy, what an apt description. ;)

[Boho]

mmmmm...beautifully written indeed. i also am now craving an orange.

xoxoxo