Friday, September 21, 2007
Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
Cheri Mueller
What is Cocooning?
When I first started this blog, I was in a season of life that felt like a complete undoing. I was undergoing a personal death of sorts, a reversal of life as I had once known it. And suddenly everything came into question: my identity, my relationships, my purpose on earth, and even my faith.
Oh how I related to the caterpillar folded mysteriously into a cocoon! I struggled with doubt and depression, and clung prayerfully to a personal mantra:
"She harbors new life in her brooding cocoon with the delicate promise of wings."
Those poetic words were my reminder throughout difficult changes to hope and trust in the Creator's promise, that I am a NEW CREATION!
I'm a creative enough person to know that "creations" aren't "snap-finger" products. They take time, patience, and stubborn vision. Sometimes they need to be completely reworked. And most of the time they're messy.
After several years of brooding, spinning, waiting, wondering, and eeking out some form of trust that everything would work out for the better, something new is indeed happening--on the inside and the outside.
I'm living with new joy.
I wanted to mark these changes with a new blog title. "Butterfly-ing" is the closest I can come to describing the miraculous shift. But on the heels of these transformations, and as I enter midlife, I realize I'm still waiting. For new things, yes, and different things, of course, but somehow still waiting and still wondering about the same core issues: my identity, my purpose on earth, and how faith fits with it all.
And so even now, with the whisper of wings fluttering on the distant horizon, cocooning remains an apt metaphor. Hope still feels delicate. I still have questions over which I brood (I'm sure you'll read many of my broodings here). But, I'm learning to be more comfortable with the creative mess.
More and more, I'm letting Spirit-friend "go at it" in her studio (my own heart and soul). And I'm wasting less energy running after her, trying to tidy up.
Oh how I related to the caterpillar folded mysteriously into a cocoon! I struggled with doubt and depression, and clung prayerfully to a personal mantra:
"She harbors new life in her brooding cocoon with the delicate promise of wings."
Those poetic words were my reminder throughout difficult changes to hope and trust in the Creator's promise, that I am a NEW CREATION!
I'm a creative enough person to know that "creations" aren't "snap-finger" products. They take time, patience, and stubborn vision. Sometimes they need to be completely reworked. And most of the time they're messy.
After several years of brooding, spinning, waiting, wondering, and eeking out some form of trust that everything would work out for the better, something new is indeed happening--on the inside and the outside.
I'm living with new joy.
I wanted to mark these changes with a new blog title. "Butterfly-ing" is the closest I can come to describing the miraculous shift. But on the heels of these transformations, and as I enter midlife, I realize I'm still waiting. For new things, yes, and different things, of course, but somehow still waiting and still wondering about the same core issues: my identity, my purpose on earth, and how faith fits with it all.
And so even now, with the whisper of wings fluttering on the distant horizon, cocooning remains an apt metaphor. Hope still feels delicate. I still have questions over which I brood (I'm sure you'll read many of my broodings here). But, I'm learning to be more comfortable with the creative mess.
More and more, I'm letting Spirit-friend "go at it" in her studio (my own heart and soul). And I'm wasting less energy running after her, trying to tidy up.
Midlife Mosaic
by Cheri
I am a shifting mosaic
unsure
where all the pieces fit
sure
that some broken parts
have been both lost
and found
My gypsy soul wanders
the wild wilderness of
Forty
circling back and around
daring to walk
bare
the sensuous feeling of mud between toes
a little thrilled
a little scared
of this beautiful, holy, mucky mess
"Help me stand. . . "
or maybe I should pray,
"Help me stumble" to my knees
as I stagger
from the drink of
New Wine
I am a shifting mosaic
unsure
where all the pieces fit
sure
that some broken parts
have been both lost
and found
My gypsy soul wanders
the wild wilderness of
Forty
circling back and around
daring to walk
bare
the sensuous feeling of mud between toes
a little thrilled
a little scared
of this beautiful, holy, mucky mess
"Help me stand. . . "
or maybe I should pray,
"Help me stumble" to my knees
as I stagger
from the drink of
New Wine
The Word Girls Writing Studio
Need help bringing your writing to the next level? Contact Cheri & Sally by clicking on the red couch!
Blog Archive
- October 2009 (1)
- August 2009 (2)
- July 2009 (3)
- June 2009 (2)
- May 2009 (1)
- April 2009 (2)
- March 2009 (1)
- February 2009 (4)
- January 2009 (3)
- December 2008 (2)
- September 2008 (6)
- August 2008 (3)
- July 2008 (1)
- June 2008 (2)
- May 2008 (2)
- April 2008 (9)
- March 2008 (7)
- February 2008 (11)
- January 2008 (9)
- December 2007 (12)
- November 2007 (9)
- October 2007 (5)
- September 2007 (24)
- August 2007 (30)
- July 2007 (2)
You're Listening To . . . .
