Outside the writing shed is a graveyard.
I am surrounded by a sea of cicada exoskeletons, the shells discarded after they've molted, evolving from the nymph stage to the adult stage. Technically, what I see is not a graveyard. It only seems like it, all that remains following a miraculous transformation.
If you are not in a region of the world where the seventeen-year cicadas have arrived, you might think of yourself as lucky. They are a bit menacing, especially if you are not particularly thrilled with bugs. They are rather ugly and yes, they are loud. They don't bite, but they will fly and land on you, and their little grabby feet, made for climbing, will not go unnoticed on your bare skin.
Whatever your experience with them, they are a phenomenon worthy of note, a wonder of the natural world worth witnessing. And, I might suggest, a reminder of our own human transformation, our own growth.
These creatures bury themselves for seventeen years only to emerge for a brief time and then as adults, they mate, the females lay eggs, and the process begins all over again. For them, transformation is hard. Yet, miraculous.
Our own transformation, our growth, like the cicadas, is scary, disorienting, unplanned. Even unavoidable. We many times have no control over it. We are also, like the cicada, alone in the process, the struggle. But as we change alone, others are doing the same, a collective transformation. Others are also working to expand, to shift, to emerge different. It’s human.
And like the cicada, we are built for this. The human mind is designed for change, and we can believe that no matter how messy, how strange, how petrifying it might be, we can renew.
Like the cicada, that transformation is sometimes so very difficult. It's discomforting, full of heartache or pain that may leave behind wounds and eventual scars, but in the end, we will surface renewed. Changed.
Whatever you may be going through, how long it takes, no matter the fight and the uncertainty, know that change is part of us. It's inevitable. And like the cicada, it's going to arise whether we are ready for it or not. But also like the cicada, we are part of the world’s bigger process of revolution. The natural process of evolution. And, yes, we all change, and we all must. If the cicadas don’t transform, the species dies.
We, too, must change to live.
An excerpt from The Writer Shed June Newsletter. Sign up for Free HERE.
David W. Berner is the author of several books of award-winning fiction and memoir. His memoir, Daylight Saving Time is now available for pre-order.
So true. Even what is natural can be painful.
Beautiful. And you are right about change - it *is* messy, uncomfortable and worst of all different and different almost always feels frightening to me. We all want things to stay the same (at least when things are going well!) and I know that isn't possible and nor should it be. It's trite to say that feeling this way often heralds 'personal growth' but I suspect it's true. I will be pre-ordering your book :)