Unfolding Another Level of the Onion
Once I conceptualized healing as the closing of a wound. Then I was told to visualize healing as the opening of a bud to expose new layers of petals on a blossom. I now use the peeling away of layers of an onion as my visual model for conceptualizing the process of healing.
I find the model self-explanatory, but then I am using the schema. So a bit of an examination of this model follows.
Onion models at first might seem to be framed as a negative experience. They stink. They make you cry. No, no, no, no, no.
They do not stink. Walk into a house where onions are softening and browning in olive oil. Ten to one someone will say, “Something smells good.” They are powerful, they are aromatic.
Aromas carry particles that perfuse the air and land on and travel with things that pass through the air carrying the aroma.
The little beads of oil that transfer to and bond with the skin of anyone coming in direct contact with the raw, injured, onion are impossible to ignore and difficult to remove unless you interact with lemons.
Aren’t as simple as they seem. There are membranes and layers of layers. Some of these are very closely paired to the point where they seem to be one or at least inseparable.
You peel one away and another even more densely compressed layer is underneath.
I may be referring to this analogy in posts throughout the next few weeks as I embark on a journey into a new phase of my life that I have been trying to enter for the past year. I think I have found the door.
Useful? Let me know.