In yet another lesson brought to me courtesy of that burn, I was inspired to talk about how interesting it is to watch my body go through the healing process. This is not about the healing magic so much as it’s about how healing itself is magic.
To see my body damaged is a little traumatic; all of a sudden there’s a charred mess where normal skin should be. But once the blisters started to come up and the pain went away, I got to see what my body is capable of. It was pretty awesome.
There’s something very primal about the need to pick and poke at it. Even if the feeling of the fluids sloshing inside is stomach churning the mere notion that a body filled with helpful and harmful germs can produce a sterile environment in which to grow new flesh under the damaged flash is remarkable. Slowly, over the passing week, the fluid either reabsorbed or steadily leaked out without me having to open it up. My body let me know when it was time to get rid of the junk by it just letting it go; all I had to do was keep up with a clean bandage.
Now, after all the dead skin has flaked away, I am left with a smooth, clean, pink scar. I look at it in awe of how horribly I’d mucked it up and my body just said “Alright, you dingus. Just sit back and let me handle this.” Usually, I trust my body to betray me; sending my period late/early, burping at inappropriate times, pimples, etc… But this time it came through for me. That’s the magic of nature.
Which I am not prepared for at ALL, by the way. Because of my burn and PMS, I haven’t worked out in a 2 weeks. I can’t tell you how completely horrid that makes me feel.
Good news is my burn is all dried out (I’ll spare you the tales of leaking blisters) and it appears I will form the most epic scar ever. XD I don’t mind having scars. As a woman with 4 tattoos (with more to come, I hope) I see my scars as cheap, hastily attained decorations upon my flesh.
In other news, that story I was freaking out over the word count will be reviewed soon, heralding another freakout. I really hope to be accepted and I have heard from the Pagan Writers Press Facebook page that reading has begun.
If you need me, I’ll be in the corner, suitably terrified as I am ruthlessly judged.
Seeing as how I recently burned myself, I have a new respect for flames. >_<
The story goes as follows: While boiling pasta for dinner, one hand slipped from the handle on the pot and scalding hot water spills on my thigh. Let me tell you, I have never taken my pants off so fast in my life.
Nearly a week later, now that the blisters have popped and the skin is healing, I have seen the why and the lesson fire had for me; pay attention. Life is here. Life is NOW. And if you aren’t looking, life will be gone. Or you will spill boiling hot water on your leg. :p You have to be present in every moment and celebrate it.
The burn was like a shock to my system. Despite the bandages and ointment and pain, I’m doing the things I enjoy with no excuses and having more fun with my family. In part, it’s guilt from scaring the begeezuz out of them (I screamed. Loud.) but my passion for life is back.
But my message to the universe is simply this: Less painful lessons next time. >D