There is a reason the caterpillar transitions into a cocoon before becoming a butterfly.
There is a reason little seedlings are planted after the last winter frost.
There is a reason you do not move into a home until it is complete.
In the past, I have contemplated the theoretical concept of playing dead without being dead.
Like most things, the understanding and application resonate with one’s perspective of death.
For some immobility is a form of death.
For others decimation of growth is death.
Medically speaking the loss of neurological function is death.
Ironically, this is not about death at all, but the symbolism of death’s characteristics.
I have observed, at different stages humans invoking death’s characteristics as a form of survival.
In school, we remain silent even when we know the answer out of unsupported fear of being wrong,
In relationships, we fabricate or eviscerate our feelings out of fear of losing the relationship.
In our jobs, we ride the assembly line even though we have already been assembled.
We fear the risk that does not pay off.
We fear the truth that does not reveal.
We fear the hope that does not produce.
And so, the caterpillar never becomes the butterfly
The seedling never becomes a rose.
And, the house never becomes a home.
Yet, change the perspective and the theoretical becomes the reality.
I know a king who was born a servant.
I know a servant who became a king.
I know a king who died a criminal but became an advocate.
His camouflage was a necessity to his survival.
The ruse surrounding his birth was predicated on hidden truths remaining hidden until their appointed unveiling.
It makes you wonder if he always knew who he would become.
You might even speculate if it came to him in the midnight hour.
Perhaps the helper showed him the way.
In any case, once he knew, he began to walk as he had caught the clue.
Until his payment was due.
The ideology bears witness to the theoretical supposition of the original thought.
Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
And just because you know, doesn’t mean you divulge.
Sometimes the greater victory is not in the now but in the latter.
Bridle the tongue so the mouth may speak.
If the caterpillar refused to hibernate, it would never become the butterfly.
If the seedlings were never nurtured, they would never become roses.
If the tree was never cut, the house would never become a home.
You cannot reach the finish line if you never run the race.
You must be logged in to post a comment.