Too long have I huddled within a cocoon.  Now I grant myself the freedom to spread my wings.  I emerge, whole, new, dazzling.

Unknowing, I lay in darkness, senseless until a shattering blow cracked my grotesque armor. Shimmering light streams through the dark.  Mystified, I wonder: Did I grow this protective shell; or did silt wash over me, collecting debris, winding around my struggling limbs?

Searching hands have reached within the muck from time to time and still, I remained trapped, amid the accumulated tangled mess woven around me.  Now I raise my arms and claw at what has gripped me.  I feel myself rising.  Wind buffets against me.  What once ensnared me falls away.

It’s the sixth day of the twenty-seventh month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues, unfolding, exhilarating, filled with promise.