Through Thick and Thin

A while back, I read a post written by my intriguing blogfriend, Hawk, over at Hawk’s Place,(http://whatisitabout.wordpress.com/2007/08/25/hows-your-metal/ ).    It got me thinking alot about inner strength,  about how external factors and events shape the person you become.   It also made me think how the way we process those extraneous things help in determining the possible outcome of events in our lives. 

And my mind kept going back to questions raised in that post….how do we temper & hone ourselves to deal with what Life hands us?  The analogy was with the fabrication of Japanese swords, but my thoughts kept returning to the gauge of my skin rather than my metal:  was I thick-skinned or thin-skinned?  Or somewhere in between?

Like everyone else, I’ve gone through some events in my life that should have thickened my skin, made me wary and mistrustful.    In the past few weeks, a whole mess of stuff seems to have surfaced all at once, not anything major, but stuff that needs to be dealt with nonetheless.  And this whole mess of stuff kind of makes me feel like I was taking a hit, falling, recovering, then getting back up, ready to take the next one, and so on.    I’ll try to say this so that it makes sense:  most of my life, I’ve coped by not feeling anything, through isolation, by pretending everything’s ok when it’s not.  Thickening my skin, adding layers, protecting, insulating.   I wasn’t getting anywhere, just spinning my wheels. 

I’m not sure when it started, but I gradually shed layers, literally & figuratively.  I kept seeking to be open and vulnerable, not really certain why, but I knew that for me, the answer lay in challenging myself to get out there.  The more I did that, the more I found myself to feel, to feel hurt, to feel deep sorrow and pain, on top of the joyful layers of laughter, and pleasure.   The more I challenge myself to live externally as much as I can stand it, the more thin-skinned I become.   Most people view thin-skin as a deficient character trait.   You’re wimpy, wussy, emotional, you’re too soft, you cry too easily, you’re affected too deeply by things that should just roll off your back.  And in many ways, it’s very true.  I am all of those things.  But the more thin my skin becomes, the more my inner light shines & glows.  That’s the part I love the best about this thin-skin business:  glowing.   

Coping with Life’s curveballs has been much more enjoyable now that I let myself be who I am.   Ok, enjoyable isn’t the right word…..I don’t want to say easier either, but it’s certainly positive.  You would think that being thin-skinned would turn one into a globby mess of jelly.   Sometimes, it gets kind of messy, that’s true.  Yet I’ve never felt as strong as I do now, and it has alot to do with staying open to others, to throwing down the gauntlet and doing things I never thought of doing. 

The past weeks have been like playing Truth or Dare.  And I don’t suspect the game to end anytime soon, as my life expectancy is probably another 40 years or so, give or take.  Whether facing down those pesky demons that make an appearance on a regular basis, whether  making the best of what’s being offered, I’m dedicated to keeping my skin thin.  Because you can’t feel anything when your skin is thick.   I’ll do all I can to nurture it,  smoothing the more damaged parts and admiring the scar tissue here & there.  

When it’s old(er), even more thin,  and wrinkled & softer to the touch, I want that satisfaction of knowing that I rolled with the punches, I bounced back from adversity, and kept shining on.  

But I don’t do this alone.  You don’t get through thick and thin by yourself.  So this is my repeat prescription of thanks to each person who has given me the honour of sharing in their life, and consequently has helped me to shine.  From those who left their imprints on my soul as a child, to those who keep giving me a reason to glow, to those (as yet) unknown encounters that will add seasoning to my life, I say merci.      

Love,  Chantal xoxoxo