I'm thinking of wounds this morning for some reason. I had a surgery on my toe recently and I had to go through a process every night to make sure the wound didn't heal on the surface before the underneath did. The doctor said if the top heals first I could have a devil of a time with the unhealed underneath. At one visit he took what I called the tiny silver crochet hook and completely removed the new growth of skin on the top to get air back to the injury, which hurt like I couldn't believe.
For someone that was raised by a family and a peer group that was "all about the surface appearance" the problem of healing on top and ingoring the festering wound just sounded normal, frankly. I always practiced the belief that you "SAVE your face and your ass will follow". I can report here, THAT school of thought is a monstrous failure for me.
I spent a lot of time treating the symptoms of having a terribly wounded spirit. I'm toying with the connection of my toe surgery instructions to resist the appearance of progress/healing on the surface and continue to treat the source injury.
Real healing comes from the inside out not vice versa. The outside stuff comes the easiest because it requires the least amount of effort. It is most uncomfortable once you find some sort of treatment for the deep part of the wound because you just have to acknowledge it, be with it and let it take the time it needs to take in order for it to become complete again.
More than anything, I would love to move through my life on the planet without effects of a dry socketed wound of spirit leaving me to fully engaged in experiencing the experience of being a human for 70 or so years.
That is what I am thinking about at 7:30 in the morning on a Tuesday in Texas, in the body of a 41 year old white male, on the third rock from the sun.