There was the warmth, security and sustenance of the womb.
There is safety in the cocoon. There is development there – who is there in month seven is definitely someone different to who was there in month three. For all that, there is little to be concerned about because the cocoon is safe.
Then there is the push from the cocoon. The time comes that the cocoon of the womb can no longer contain that which resides within and on expulsion and exposure to what’s beyond there is the scream of the unfamiliar.
That scream, that vulnerability leads to a new cocoon. That first home of the arms of the loving parent, of the cot, of that living space, is set to provide the new parameters of safety. Here nurturing takes place and even if that physical environment changes regularly, the cocoon is as much emotional and relational as it is physical.
Yet at some juncture in the development, there’s a sense that even that cocoon can no longer contain that which resides within. There’s nudges and hints. There’s a sense that there’s something beyond and a desire to venture there into the unknown. There’s also the knowing that it will call for breaking through the cocoon and this time it’s not so much of an involuntary expulsion as there is an urge and a push, sometimes a jerk and thrust that breaks through that cocoon.
Once again it’s the unfamiliar, the pain, the dread, the vulnerability. Over time, however, an inner culture has almost confitioned the self to not make the scream as obvious. The cry is still thtere though.
Wisdom is essential for the unfamiliar. Exposure often leads to adjustment, assimilation and to a degree acceptance. Where that takes place without wisdom, the corrupting and corrosive seeps in with whatever is thrilling and enthralling in the unfamiliar. It is only unfamiliar to you, it is not in itself unfamiliar. As long as it is, there is a wisdom to it in receiving and embracing it or rejecting it. Not acknowledging the wisdom and seeking to be the authority and self-made wisdom is the sure path to self-delusion where self-destruction is inevitable.
The pain and the vulnerability of breaking through the cocoon into the unfamiliar is supposed to be the prelude to glorious flourishing. That flourishing takes place with the wisdom from the one who created you, just as your first outer cocoon is formed by those who bring you into the world outside.
Wisdom is there to flourish in the unfamiliar.
For His Name’s Sake
C. L. J. Dryden