About this blog:
PUSHING THE BRUISE
You know, to see if it still hurts. When I use this phrase I may be speaking literally or figuratively.
Literally: I whack myself on something, get a bruise, watch it change colors, poke it—tentatively at first, then more confidently as time passes—to see if it still hurts. The bruise may be minor or spectacular. Doesn’t matter. When I see it, or remember it, it’s gonna get poked.
Figuratively: You’ve probably guessed. Bruises can be figurative, too—abstract, intangible, yet very real. Wounds given, wounds received, wounds self-inflicted, intentionally or by accident—all are fair game for poking.
Does it still hurt (for me)? Does it still hurt (for them)? Did it ever really hurt? (Some bruises don’t.)
Ideas are fair game for bruise-pushing, too–for teasing out, to see if they stand up to scrutiny, up to poking. Do they develop bruises or do they maintain their integrity?
Ever play the pushing-the-bruise game with your sister or friend? Poke. “Ow, quit it.” Poke. “Ow, quit it.” Poke. “Ow. Mo-omm!”
Want to play with me?
About this blogger:
This Child of Aslan, Ros, is a high school English teacher in Southern California. Middle-aged, she is already a certified cat lady. Her callings include teaching and writing. Her hobbies include reading and photography. Her efforts of late include improving her self-discipline, living honestly, and understanding love–both ours and God’s. You can contact her at chiasticmusings [AT] gmail [DOT] com.