Unbuttoning My Soul

Under the glass coffee table in Tut Riddick's house are boxes painted pink, yellow, orange and green and tied with ribbons. They are surprises to be picked up and opened by guests. My box has lips and the Eye of Horus, a sacred ancient Egyptian symbol that provides protection, power, good and health to anything behind it.

Inside the box is a Shearwater pot from Ocean Springs, lemon drops (Tut's grandmother used to hand these out) and a poem written by Tut that said "unbuttoning my soul is my only role."

Unbuttoning my soul. I turn 48 on Friday. Two days and two years from 50 and I have been through a season of "unbuttoning my soul" through mistakes, consequences and soul-searching. Untangling issues from the past becomes one knot leading to another. Learning better ways to communicate, care for the people I love and letting go of my own selfishness. At least trying to.

I thought I was the only one who had gotten to the halfway point of life and realized my blueprint is off and that I need reconstruction. But my closest friends started admitting theirs is off too, just in different ways. I have learned through almost 1,000 Souls interviews that almost all of us have something broken inside us. Something that has become unbuttoned. It is what makes us human and helps us understand each other.

The next line of Tut's poem is “resting, believing, silent achieving.” Mine would be forgiving, understanding and silent healing. Those are the gifts I have been given, but the ones I still need to give myself. Maybe I can do that on Friday. If I make it through my personal reconstruction, I am getting an Eye of Horus tattoo.