Crab Shells
I have never been one to follow or really believe in astrological signs, but for what it’s worth, I am a cancer. Whenever I sense danger or hurt, I crawl into my shell, hide there and clip my claws a few times so people know not to mess with me. The problem with me is that I get comfortable in that shell.
In my shell, I can cry uncontrollably without having to explain why. I can sleep through the day without doing anything else at all without having to explain, I can listen to the same song until I rub a new hole into the CD without having to explain. In my shell I can be everything and anything I need to be without having to find an explanation, without having to justify, without having to try to figure out a way to make it stop.
My shell for me equals freedom. I can be as quiet or as loud as I need to be. I can forget to shower, comb my hair, brush my teeth, do anything except lay right there in my bed and be. My shell only has room for one and there is no phone or internet in there leaving me completely alone with my thoughts and no matter how many of them there are, each and every thought gets acknowledged, examined, occasionally addressed.
My shell is where I can feel God the most. In the quiet solitude of this space I can feel the presence of God and it’s there that I can get the answers to those questions that have been burning in my mind.
I used to apologize for my shell, but I see now that it is my shell that keeps the smile that naturally forms in public on my face. My shell is my escape, my sanity, my prayer closet, my dance studio, my recording studio, my library, my office space, my journal, anywhere my mind can be free. It took some time, but I have learned to appreciate my shell. I have to remember though, that sometimes, it’s okay and necessary to come out of it.
