Do you remember when you were a kid and you got a scrape or a cut? What did you do? If you were anything like me you went straight to your mom crying and wanting relief. So, what happened then? If your mom was anything like mine, it got cleaned out with hydrogen peroxide. It didn’t hurt, but it was kind of weird watching the yucky stuff bubble out of the wound, and each time it was applied less and less bubbled up. It would be clean and you would get a band-aid to keep it clean. Well, it went that way for me until I couldn’t leave the scab alone. It seemed as soon as it scabbed over I’d be picking at it. I tried not to but it just begged to be picked. And it did cause a scar. But each time it was re-introduced to the peroxide again. But you know it always healed and each time I picked the scab the pressure from inside would decrease as the blood was allowed to flow and the wound was cleaned.
Now, I’m a grandmother and nothing has changed except that I have added picking at emotional wounds in addition to not keeping my hands off the my physical scabs. But that’s not all. It seems I can’t resist helping my friends with picking at their emotional wounds and seeing them healed as well. Being there to help clean away the yucky emotional bubbles that come up when the pressure is relieved from under the emotional scab. This is no joke, if I think in my own small mind that my friend is hurting under the pressure of a scabbed over emotional wound, I will do all I can to relieve that pressure and help them get all the yuck out. I mean who wants to walk around with all that yuck and emotional infection festering inside them, right?
Anyway, I am writing this as I wait for my soul mate to blow up at me for picking at his scabs. There is a reason for the nick name he used to call me years ago. I have a hard time letting things go. But I keep having a phrase Hagrid uses in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets – “Better out than in.”