what does your egg look like?

I got to thinking about eggs earlier this week. well, actually for over a week now.

yes, I’m a strange bird. ha!

is it a coincidence that there are birds all around me?

how pretty and perfect they are… I thought as I submerged twelve golden eggs in a bath of boiling water Sunday night.

perfect just the way they are. aren’t we all like that?

I couldn’t stop watching them as they started to gently wiggle in the water.

sidebar>>this is the first time I have hard-boiled an egg since junior high. seriously. I got an F on that project. ha!

“how long do we let them go,” I ask my husband from my position hanging over the pot.

coming from a person who lives in oneness, I expect his reply to be, “when they are ready, you will know…”

(for a moment, I believe that I should be able to connect with my eggs boiling away…)

“seven minutes, baby.” was his reply.

I double check the gas, and set the timer for seven minutes.

excellent. I have seven minutes to watch these beauties cook.

while engrossed in watching the eggs, I realize that no new thoughts have entered my mind.

sidebar#2>>>I have been reading all about wordlessness – it is hard to do – but it gets easier with practice. how many thoughts have scampered through your mind since you started reading this? probably more than you realize. i.e., what is this woman droning on about now? I hope that Ben picks Courtney. I hate that Courtney b*tch. is it payday today? I’m scared to go to the doctor next week. what are we going to do this weekend? hopefully nothing.

amazing, huh?

back to those eggs. I’m now in a mental place where I recognize that access to my right brain is now within reach. darn, I wish I was a lefty – much easier for them!

so I reach away, and just start to watch the thoughts at they float by.

the thought that starts to appear probably grew from an answer to a question I asked at church the other day…”why isn’t Christianity labeled a poly theistic religion…you know, with the holy trinity business?”

the answer, courtesy of Rev. Allison Rainey, this is how I explain it to the kids, you can compare the holy trinity to an egg. all three are one.

I get it. 🙂

sidebar>>>I love it when I feel like a kid again. don’t you? when was the last time that happened to you?

“babe, do you think an egg can be compared to the mind, body, and soul?” I ask, mesmerized by the eggs.

“of course.” I hear him reply from the living room. I love how he gets me. 🙂

“huh. cool. I’ll have to sit on that,” I say. and then put it away when the timer expires. I start the task of retrieving the eggs…returning them one by one to their original egg carton.

“great idea,” my husband says after he limps to the kitchen to check on the egg progress. he nods at the carton being refilled. yeah!

“thanks!” I reply.

so…I put the eggs and egg musings away.

I was in the shower on Monday morning, when the egg metaphor popped into my head again. and it wanted to grow. the thoughts were right on the tip of my tongue (evidence of right brain work).

after I get out of the shower, still dripping with water I write the word egg on my Copaxone daily tracker notebook, and promise myself I will come back to my epiphany (ha!).

and write.

about how eggs come in all shapes, colors, and sizes. there are blue eggs. brown eggs. white eggs. spotted. some are cracked. rotten. eggs that never turn into birds (lots of those out there!). eggs that are made into omelets stuffed with all sorts of things – good and bad. or soft boiled. and hard boiled. there are scrambled eggs. and fried eggs. sunny-side up. sunny-side down. eggs with their yolks removed. eggs with big yolks. eggs that are dyed different colors and hidden. bejeweled eggs, with nothing on the inside.

but they’re all still eggs. regardless.

it made me think that eggs are like us. and animals. all living things. we are all one. but can be turned into many different things. but always from the same three things – mind, body, and soul.

all perfect just the way we are.

there are peeps that are cracked and broken. abandoned. and abused.

some are stuffed so full of goodies that they are overflowing. celebrated. inside and out.

those of us that prefer to remain soft on the inside but hard on the outside. or soft everywhere. or hard everywhere.

what does your egg look like today?

xo

PS>>>hope you all have a great weekend…this was a random post that just wanted to spill out from the curious little girl who still lives in me… 🙂

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

~Emily Dickinson

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