(the closest photo I have of a chrysalis)
Today I finally planted my garden. The seeds didn't sprout at first, so then I got a few seedlings. They languished in the house under minimal care. The garden has not been my place of refuge this year. Spring accosted me with its bright greeting, and since then I've wanted to crawl into hibernation until September because I feel too exposed and raw.
After not feeling well for most of the weekend, I had the strength to work the earth and secure the roots of the fledgling seedlings. I'll see how those have survived so far fare tomorrow under full sunlight. While trimming perennials, I could feel their cringe as I removed old growth. All that's left are the delicate, awkward new shoots.
As I was outside, I realized I have been in a cocoon for several weeks now. I've slowed down considerably, part a conscious choice but more a response to changes in my body. I've pulled within to have more energy for self-reflection. I've been operating way outside of my comfort zone for months now. Even though I've had support during this process, it's left me stripped bare in some ways and in others holding tight to old habits because I'm unable to expose changes I've made internally. Vulnerable. Cocooned.
At some point, I'm going to have to shed what's left of my comfortable skin (although it's less and less so with each day), but I've realized I'm still not ready. I am giving myself that time to prepare,
to let go,
to honor,
to feel,
to grow.
