Last week I found this:

Empty shell

It is the empty shell of what I believe is a June Bug. I didn’t even realize they shed their skins, but there you go. [Edit: It’s a cicada.] The thing is, I’ve been contemplating these remains for the past week, and how they  relate to my life.

The fact is, I am full. It would be easy for me to say I need to shed my skin and let out the real me, but that isn’t quite the case. For many months I have felt oppressed by a relationship in which I felt unable to speak my mind. In those months, feelings, thoughts, visions, and opinions have built up which I have repressed, for fear of pissing someone else off. It’s no way to live, especially for a writer who lives to put to paper her every inspiration. It’s difficult to function in every facet of life, for me, when I am unable to express myself.

There’s a teaching in Taoism, in which the example of a full cup of water is used. At first glance, a cup filled to the brim with water may be considered a positive thing. And yet, a full cup holds no potential. The usefulness of a cup is its empty space… When I’m full of thoughts and ideas, I’m also of no use to anyone.

My problem now is twofold. Although I’m out of the relationship that caused me to keep quiet, I am so full of the things I want to say, I don’t know where to start.  The other part of it is that I know the person involved may be reading my blog. So, do I say to hell with it and speak my mind, the other person’s feelings be damned? Or do I continue to tread cautiously?

I found, in examining the second of two pictures I took of this bug, there is something that looks like a face inside it. This picture is not doctored. But the face inside the empty bug shell, I think, may be me, still afraid to come out.

Look closely to see the face