What is that thing under the surface?

Tom Wingo: It's the Southern Way; when things get too painful, we either avoid them or we laugh.
Susan Lownstein: When do you cry?
Tom Wingo: [laughing] We don't.

from the movie, "Prince of Tides"

Unfortunately this southern bred girl has lived this quote for too many years of my middle lengthed life.

We are a hospitable bunch and we never want to burden anyone,

so we pile it up, heap it on,

and

bury all that stuff that

we don't think is pretty or warm or comfortable underneath the surface of our skin.

Tom Wingo had it right....we either laugh about it or we hide it.

For me, for years, I buried it underneath the surface of my skin and spooned cake and ice-cream and all kinds of delectable goodies into my mouth

to push that burning, searing pain

of my past deep inside,

buried it,

hid it,

so no one would ever know or hear or sense that

something was wrong.  Sometimes us Southern girls are so

good at the hiding that we even fool ourselves into

 believing that "pain" doesn't live with us anymore.

I suspect a few along the way have known..

known that there was something

 held me back,

caused me to bury recollections that were unpleasant or deemed unacceptable...or

perhaps...just something you don't tell.....you know keep the skeletons in the closet and don't tell

the family secrets. But most other southern people never have the nerve to ask about it.

So for me,

this southern bred way of living,

of not feeling the pain, or acknowledging that it was there

burning a hole in my heart,

caused me

to become

a

"big girl"......a still sexy hot big girl, but a big girl anyway.

In the past few years,

something has broken away....

memories flooded

and

even now when I try to pretend I don't feel them...I know that it is a lie.

they are too strong,

and almost overpower my ability to cope.

I recognized it.

began to understand it,

tried to talk about it, and try to befriend her--Pain that is.

I write about it,

I relive it,

but that thing,

that ugly nagging thing that

I don't want to acknowledge,

is a pestering

memory haunts.....hangs over like a dark cloud on a stormy day.

Understanding this,

naming the pain,

living it all over again

has helped me to give up my driven need to

coat my body in layers,

create a boundary from the world.

I gave it up, the food that is....I no longer find myself needing it

  or wanting it to control me or

cover the beauty of my authentic self, or tamper with

all that I am.

So as the layers of my body shrink,

I now in all my southern hospitality and my frozen hospitable smile....

invite that pain to come on over,

pull up a seat at the table,

and have a good old southern

chat over tea and biscuits and jam,

perhaps drink a cool glass of lemonade on the porch.

I think I should listen to her,

touch her,

and feel her in my depths of my bones.....

to feel it in the fullness of what I can feel,

and

then invite her to move on over,

step it back jack,

get a new plan...

for

she has

held me back for way to long,

covered my body,

robbed me of awareness..

but no more...

time for her to come on out...

and

move on over...

I feel like Joy might just be knocking at the door.

Like the shell above,

washed to the surface,

covered in muck,

uncovered ,

even in all its flaws

is a beauty to behold,

a wonder to perceive,

I too will be able to live more fully,

more whole

and

more alive

than ever before..

so for me..

that's what's bubbling under the surface on this

late Monday evening.....

what's underneath your surface?