Cocoons

It’s so easy to do,  isn’t it?

Numb. 

Numb ourselves when the world feels heavy and our hearts are sagging?

For days I was fine. 

No really, I was fine.

And then I was not.

And then I wove a slick cocoon all around me and shut the world out.

And I shut my eyes, and shut dowm my intuition. I closed up the deep deep within.

But I also shut out the the light.

Yet the light is what I need to bring me back.

To my mind, to my soul, to my body. My aching bones. My wrinkled skin. My warm embrace. My kind eyes.

To the coursing of blood and water, air and the drawing of deep breaths that take me over the hill and down the other side.

To the grassy plain where stillness beckons me to pay attention.

To the seaside where the reckless waves unleash their wild wonder on my salty lips.

To the mossy path that leads me back to softness, to grace, to myself. Once again. 

Cocoons were never meant to sustain me for very long.

Just long enough for fragile wings to form.

Before the next flight.