One of my weird childhood fascinations (that followed me into adulthood) has always been to pour peroxide into an open wound and watch it bubble. I was the kid who would pick at scabs or scratch at big bites and then run to the bathroom to clean off the blood, stick my leg or arm or whatever it was into the bathtub or over the sink, and douse it with peroxide. I felt a great sense of accomplishment watching it bubble, as if it were healing right in front of my eyes - even though I had usually been the one to open (or reopen) the wound in the first place.
The directions bequeathed to me by the almighty internet about using peroxide as a teeth whitener said to use about two tablespoons and swish it in your mouth for a full minute. It warned that the peroxide in your mouth would bubble and foam, and that means it's doing its job and cleansing the bacteria.
Let me tell you, it certainly does bubble and foam.
As I poured the peroxide into my mouth tonight and felt it start to foam almost immediately, I thought about how my soul is just like my mouth. It gets battered and broken and full of gunk - gunk that's not visible or tangible but that is certainly there. I carry it around all the time. Instead of bad breath or dingy teeth, it manifests in impatience, selfishness, and anger. I'm short-tempered. I'm petulant. I wonder what's in it for me?
I'm hoping this time of reflection and introspection will be like peroxide for my soul. I know I'll never be able to cleanse it all, but maybe I can get it a little whiter, a little less grimy and full of bacteria, if I just keep swishing.
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