Lobster-ish

"And in every place he abandons he leaves something vital, it seems to me, and starts his new life somewhat less encrusted, like a lobster that has shed its skin and is for a time soft and vulnerable." 

E. B. White, "Good-bye to Forty-eighth Street",  Essays

I've been mulling over this quotation for several days now. I've found it particularly fitting for this season in my life, and E. B. White (of Charlotte's Web fame) provided me with such a fantastic mental image that I just can't stop thinking about it.

This was our fourth military move. With each move, we leave something vital: dear friends, favorite haunts, the mirror we got for our wedding that somehow didn't make it into the truck, and pieces of who we are, whether we realize it or not. While moving can be an adrenaline rush and carry with it its own exhilaration, it can also leave you feeling worn out, off kilter, lost, or beaten.

This move, I admit, I've mostly just wanted to hide for a while. I want time with my kids, time with the Man, time with the pets even, and definitely time by myself. My motivation level for meeting new people has been at an all time low. I've been inspired to set up house, because I want the comfort of home, but I do feel kind of lobster-ish right now. I feel soft and vulnerable, and I crave a little time to hide and let my skin re-grow.

In the past, I might've felt guilty about this. But now, I am trying to give myself space. After a season of brokenness and grief, God is allowing me time to heal, to put down roots slowly, to be gentle with myself. 

So here's to being a naked lobster--for a little while.