On shells

The feeling + adoration of

Photo by Dagmara Dombrovska on Unsplash

Lately, on my low days, I find myself thinking “I feel like a shell of a human”.

I think this thought from a place of being devoid. Empty. Distant from the person I once was. All that remains is my shell of a body and I’m not sure what else.

Lately, on my good days, I find myself growing a natural curiosity for shells themselves.

I’m increasingly drawn towards them. I wonder about them. I want to find more of them. An outing to the local “shell shack” has suddenly become the perfect afternoon excursion.

It was only very recently that I connected the dots and began to bridge these two sides of me together. Realizing that not only do shells find themselves in most all of my days (the good ones and the bad ones), but that perhaps there is something healing for me here too.

The expression of being “a shell of ourselves” implies that we have been hollowed out. That we are still alive, yet devoid of something. That only a portion of the person who we once were remains.

When this expression comes to mind on my bad days, I am a melancholic shell. I think these things with sadness or disdain. Sometimes wondering to myself how I got to this place at all to begin with. How a became a shell (of myself).

I’ve repeated this thought pattern periodically over the past several months, until the other day when all of a sudden I stopped it in its tracks. Blinked several times. And thought to myself: “But I love shells.”

The thought itself felt so pure and innocent.

The question circling my mind was no longer “how I became a shell of myself”, but how did I find myself in this habit of showing disdain against something that I actually, truly, wholeheartedly loved?

I had been blindly using this adopted expression of “being a shell of myself” for years, and in the process, was creating a contemptuous narrative about shells for myself.

To be a shell is a beautiful thing.

Yes, you may feel a bit hollowed out, but only because you know what it feels like to have life lived within you. Because you know what it feels like to be a home to some kind of vital life force. Because you know what it feels like to protect something that you love.

Your long and captivating life continues to evolve, the ocean you’re immersed in continues to churn, until you find yourself washed up basking in the radiant sun.

At first, you might feel washed up on a deeper level. Letting the state of being “washed up” equate to “used up”, tired, expired.

But darling, you are a shell.

The next chapter of your life is just beginning.

You’ve been washed up for a reason. To rest, re-set, and bask on the beach in the sun. Until one day, without any effort or striving, you become an essential treasure for someone new. The small hermit crab looking for a new home, the adoring human looking for a special addition to their home altar, or the great ocean sweeping you back under its watery wing.

It does not matter if you are chipped, broken, peppered with holes, or fading in color.

You are a treasure simply because you are a shell. And some creature, some entity, some force - will come into your life and remind you of this during those washed up moments. Remind you that being a shell of yourself is actually a beautiful thing. The beginning of a new chapter of life with new meanings and new purpose.

xx

Heather