The Break

I quit my job in July in order to pursue rest and wellness. That was a kind of break: the break away.

But once you get the chance to lie down, you start to dream. That can mimic the dance, but it’s not the true dance. In the Song of Songs, the maiden says she slept, but her heart was awake. I left work, and spent those first days sleeping, going for walks and laying in the morning summer sun, Bible clenched to my heart. My heart quickened with hope, became restless with love, like a butterfly growing wings deep inside a cocoon, longing for flight, wrapped tight. A butterfly can grow restless in a cocoon. But, in the end, in those final stages when the butterfly is bursting to get out but doesn’t have the strength, it’s the cocoon that actually saves its’ life. Although it feels like a prison, a tomb even, in those last days when the colours are so vibrant beneath the sheath, the cocoon holds it tight and still until it’s fully grown.