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Zippers of My Soul


I wear a shirt full of zippers and each zipper opens to a part of my soul. They come in different sizes and colors. Some days I add new zippers, but rarely do any disappear. I was a baby when my first zipper was sewn in. My parents added it and filled it with love and zipped it up. It glows white and pure. It is one of the few zippers still functioning properly. I rarely open it for fear the love will seep out, and I will never be able to capture it again, so I keep it closed and close to my heart.

As I grew, zippers were added. Unfortunately, not all were as happy and pure as the ones my parents added, and not all were added by me, but in the end I allowed them to be sewn in and thus responsible for what they contain. I took inventory of my zippers the other day. There are hundreds and too many to keep track of. I have the fiery red ones that hold my passion and excitement for life. Lately, those are a bit frayed at the ends and the zippers are stuck half open. Some of the passion and excitement has leaked out, and I have found myself desperately looking to recapture and return them safely back to my soul. On good days, I might see the passion flitting by, but so quickly that I have not been able to recapture it, yet.

Then there are the yellow and white ones…happiness and love zippers that have been built through the years and shine bright in my soul. They are the ones I cling to the most because they are filled with family and friends that have given a piece of themselves to me to carry as I travel through this life. Some physically remain in my life and some no longer do, but the gift of love and happiness they gave me remains closed in the yellow and white zippers of my soul. I only unzip those pockets to let more in and close them immediately to keep any from escaping. They are my most treasured zippers.

Then there are the blue ones. They are the sad zippers. They sit firmly closed and I frantically try to pull them open, but they remain stuck, holding the sadness close to my heart playing cruel games with the happiness and love zippers. In time, I will work the kinks out of the blue zippers and free them open to release the sadness from my soul, knowing someday more will be shoved in and zippered shut. It is a constant battle. The blue zippers sit close to the black ones which hold depression the battle wound of my soul. It is the zipper I talk little of and keep hidden in the darkness of my black zippered pocket hidden behind the others. This one has been stuck closed for a while. I patch over it with material in hopes to pretend it isn’t there…hidden from others, but not from myself, but with writing, talking and the love of my family, I feel the zipper opening slightly, and I am eager to see this zipper remain open for the darkness to leak out and light to file in. Perhaps someday it will!

I check my zippers daily. I play with some of them to see if they work. Some need repairing and I spend countless years fixing those that won’t open or close. I once considered unzipping the main one and pulling all the zippers off and discarding them, but that would strip my soul of all that is good as well as bad, so it remains in place. Instead, I work at becoming the seamstress to my soul in hopes that one day I’ll master the ins and outs and find a way to keep that which is precious zipped close within me and release that which is toxic from my soul. Until then, I am the apprentice learning forever.

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