BREAKING THE COCOON
I lost a ring on Wednesday.
It happens to a lot of people, all the time, I know. And it wasn’t like it was a wedding or engagement band. But it was significant to me. It was a $10 silver ring of a butterfly design that I bought on a visit to San Francisco, years and years ago. And I’ve worn it every day since that time.
The simple design had a small solder joint at the bottom of the ring, which had given way a couple of years ago. Hardly surprising, given how long I’ve had it, daily wear, and regularly catching it on things. And it had been catching more and more lately with the solder joint having let go. Silver is soft and malleable. So I’m sure the ring caught on something and just pulled away. I was in a rush about a number of things as I got going in the morning, and could easily have overlooked it pulling off.
Other than what the ring meant to me, both in the memory of the trip and the symbolism of the butterfly, it’s a small loss in the Big Picture of Life. But it is certainly jarring when such things happen. You get used to having certain objects in your life. You consider them part of “who you are”. But the fact is, it’s just a ring.
I wore it every day because I liked the constant reminder of the butterfly. Butterflies are a symbol of resurrection and renewal. Of change and becoming something new and beautiful. As such, it was for me a symbol of Jesus, of my risen Lord. I never talked about it to people, but it was always there. And I wore it so that when I held my hand out to others, the butterfly was always right side up for them to see. No one ever asked about it. I never used it as a “preaching point”, mentioning what it meant to me. It was just there. Always.
At this minute, I don’t know if I’ll find it again. It could be anywhere.
But losing it suddenly (a different thing from taking it off for a moment) has set off a train of thought.
First, the thought of how the objects in our lives can possess us. Because I had that sudden feeling, when I realized it wasn’t on my hand, that I was incomplete. Silly, but there it is. I’d invested some of my self-perception into this object. Losing it reminds me again that, pleasant though they are, the objects in my life are not part of my essence, they are not essential.
Second, it occurred to me that although for years I’ve been wearing this symbol of transformation, I still keep hindering myself from transforming myself, from making changes. Much as I want to be the butterfly and fly away, I keep clutching to caterpillar mode, or hibernating in the chrysalis. I do not break free – free of my comfort zone, where I know the parameters, rules and expectations. And also that for all the significance I gave the ring as an emblem of my faith, I never really told anyone that’s what it was.
Which leaves me with the third strange thought: that even if I find it now, it will no longer mean the same thing to me. For now, I would be always reminded of how much time I’ve wasted holding off the transformations.
If I don’t find it ... well, it will feel strange for a while. I’ve worn it for so long. But, this may be a good thing. The little jarring shock of its loss has caused me to reflect on how, at a time when I’ve been longing for changes in my life, I’ve still been hindering the transformation.
Time to let the cocoon break. Time to leave the chrysalis behind. Yes, life is a lot more dangerous as a butterfly. But butterflies fly.
I lost a ring on Wednesday.
It happens to a lot of people, all the time, I know. And it wasn’t like it was a wedding or engagement band. But it was significant to me. It was a $10 silver ring of a butterfly design that I bought on a visit to San Francisco, years and years ago. And I’ve worn it every day since that time.
The simple design had a small solder joint at the bottom of the ring, which had given way a couple of years ago. Hardly surprising, given how long I’ve had it, daily wear, and regularly catching it on things. And it had been catching more and more lately with the solder joint having let go. Silver is soft and malleable. So I’m sure the ring caught on something and just pulled away. I was in a rush about a number of things as I got going in the morning, and could easily have overlooked it pulling off.
Other than what the ring meant to me, both in the memory of the trip and the symbolism of the butterfly, it’s a small loss in the Big Picture of Life. But it is certainly jarring when such things happen. You get used to having certain objects in your life. You consider them part of “who you are”. But the fact is, it’s just a ring.
I wore it every day because I liked the constant reminder of the butterfly. Butterflies are a symbol of resurrection and renewal. Of change and becoming something new and beautiful. As such, it was for me a symbol of Jesus, of my risen Lord. I never talked about it to people, but it was always there. And I wore it so that when I held my hand out to others, the butterfly was always right side up for them to see. No one ever asked about it. I never used it as a “preaching point”, mentioning what it meant to me. It was just there. Always.
At this minute, I don’t know if I’ll find it again. It could be anywhere.
But losing it suddenly (a different thing from taking it off for a moment) has set off a train of thought.
First, the thought of how the objects in our lives can possess us. Because I had that sudden feeling, when I realized it wasn’t on my hand, that I was incomplete. Silly, but there it is. I’d invested some of my self-perception into this object. Losing it reminds me again that, pleasant though they are, the objects in my life are not part of my essence, they are not essential.
Second, it occurred to me that although for years I’ve been wearing this symbol of transformation, I still keep hindering myself from transforming myself, from making changes. Much as I want to be the butterfly and fly away, I keep clutching to caterpillar mode, or hibernating in the chrysalis. I do not break free – free of my comfort zone, where I know the parameters, rules and expectations. And also that for all the significance I gave the ring as an emblem of my faith, I never really told anyone that’s what it was.
Which leaves me with the third strange thought: that even if I find it now, it will no longer mean the same thing to me. For now, I would be always reminded of how much time I’ve wasted holding off the transformations.
If I don’t find it ... well, it will feel strange for a while. I’ve worn it for so long. But, this may be a good thing. The little jarring shock of its loss has caused me to reflect on how, at a time when I’ve been longing for changes in my life, I’ve still been hindering the transformation.
Time to let the cocoon break. Time to leave the chrysalis behind. Yes, life is a lot more dangerous as a butterfly. But butterflies fly.
Labels: Changes
posted by Sarah | 12:03 AM
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