Cocoon

Cocoon: (v) to protect and surround.

I sometimes giggle when I read an article, and I can immediately tell that the writer has taken ten minutes to look up the subject on Wikipedia and throw in some smart words, so it appears to be a “learned” piece, laced with technological terms.

Today I refrained from doing that.

I think the most interesting thing about each and every one of us is our experience mingled with our ignorance. As long as we know we’re ignorant on certain subjects, it has a certain amount of charm to it.

For instance, I have seen a caterpillar. I have beheld a butterfly. And I know that the stage in between is referred to as a cocoon.

I have had a cocoon pointed out to me, but it was needful because it was so non-descript that I would never have noticed it. After all, there might be a danger in having a bright purple cocoon, lest someone think it’s a beautiful rock, and takes it home, eliminating the possibility for a butterfly.

Whether you believe in God or Nature, you must admit that one of these two, or both of them, are pretty damn smart.

I certainly think it would behoove the human race, instead of sewing wings onto caterpillars, to take some time to cocoon our efforts, our motivations, our desires, our wishes, and our insecurities, so that we can mature into butterflies, instead of pretending we can soar.

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Chrysalis

Chrysalis: (n) a preparatory or transitional state.

The main reason I don’t want to come out of my cocoon is that I don’t think I’ll end up being a pretty butterfly.

Wouldn’t that be horrible–to spend your life cramped into a tiny space, gouging your ego and leaving you feeling inadequate, only to burst
forth from your chrysalis and be either ugly or a gooey, incomplete mess?

I’ve wondered throughout my life if it’s more important to know what to do, how to do it, or when to do it. You see, there are many things I believe I’m prepared for, and then, even the hint of opportunity can surprise me, leaving me clumsy.

That’s why sometimes I giggle when our culture encourages us in the buffoonery of expressing verbal confidence, when we actually have no idea if we can pull something off or not.

Is it wrong to want a couple more days, weeks or months in the chrysalis before sticking a wing out and find out if we can fly?

Or is it just part of the process–that we get dumped out of our cocoon, and whatever we are is what we are?

Maybe we should have asked for a guarantee before entering our chrysalis: “This metamorphosis guarantees you one beautiful butterfly body…”

But in the world of nature, there are very few guarantees–just possibilities–usually afforded at the most inopportune time.

 

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Blanket

Blanket: (n) a large piece of material used as a covering for warmth.

Dictionary B

Having met my share of homeless brothers and sisters, I became very curious. What was it like to be homeless?

So I made a decision to don the uniform of the street and attempt to walk in the shoes of those without gainful employment, hearth and home.

I decided I would do it for a week, but must tell you that I abandoned it after twenty-four hours.

The daytime found me in a situation in which I constantly needed to be on the move so as not to annoy the “civilized” people who passed by. I got hungry very quickly and didn’t have any money, so had to figure out where to go for a free luncheon, or beg off of my neighbors.

It was humiliating.

But the most difficult part was when nighttime fell, and my mission was to locate a place to sleep that was both comfortable and safe.

I discovered that such a utopia does not exist for the street person.

I hid behind a huge bush and laid down several cardboard boxes I had broken up to use as my mattress. Several problems leaped to the forefront:

1. Every sound spooked me.

2. Sleeping on the ground means sharing the turf with things that creep and crawl.

3. I was uncomfortable not having my head elevated (pillow).

4. But the most annoying part was the lack of a blanket.

I was so accustomed to being covered, protected, swaddled by that piece of cloth that gave warmth and the sense of cocooning.

It made me bitchy, frustrated, cold, and caused me to wake up the next morning antagonistic toward the world around me–in a season when I was most vulnerable.

A blanket is a sense of well-being.

When you remove it, it takes away a gentle reassurance that all is well … and you are coddled.

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