I break a lot of eggs.
Every once in a while, one will slip from my eager hands and hit the counter or the floor, but most of them are broken with the purpose of creating a delightful meal. I always understood the importance of the egg as sustenance, but it was only this week, after a series of very unfortunate events, the act actually came to mean something more.
We are the egg.
The porous shell temporarily protects and contains all that is nutritious, hearty, and good within us. We sit in nests and cartons, hardening our shells, being incubated, refrigerated, and gently transported. All in an effort to avoid cracks and breaks. While remaining whole becomes our personal goal, this is at odds with the true intention of the egg.
At some point the egg’s divine purpose is to be liberated from its own shell. Whether by its own evolution or by someone else’s doing, coming forth requires change and sometimes pain. It is in the cracking of its shell – its brokenness – that the egg becomes more.
Beware of aligning your timing with others in their own eggs. Everyone’s incubation period is different. Regardless of their intention, separate from those who insist on keeping you in the protective shell, or after a time it will surely become your tomb.
I am reminded that no matter how many times my rawness is stirred in with other ingredients, separated, baked, poached, spiced, scrambled, or even splayed on a sizzling pan, new layers are created. (And no – getting whisked, beaten, or fried doesn’t always feel good). I become enhanced in some way.
Remaining in your shell, denies access to your inherent capabilities. Even when you are left alone to crack the membrane with your own inexperienced beak, breaking through grants you the freedom to make a greater life contribution and illustrates for others that they too can overcome incredible odds.