Moving Out of Hibernation

We all go into hibernation from time to time. Below is an excerpt from a personal essay by Susan Parker that I feel explores this "hibernation" so well. One does not need to be in deep hibernation to have this resonate. Sometimes, we have just been hibernating from our writing and creativity too long.

Arrested Development

by Susan Parker

I’ve just returned from Borders with a bundle of books. This time I’m poking into some classics, in addition to “Love Your Life”, “Get There from Here” and the usual panoply of self-help books intended to motivate me from this inertia of unemployment and isolation. Only a week ago I combed a similar bookstore and concluded there was nothing I wanted to read. I take this as a good sign.

Something has definitely changed. I actually feel myself reaching out. And I know that I may not know how to get there from here, but I know I don’t want to stay here anymore. The phone is not ringing; my world is too quiet. My friends are gone. There hasn’t been a romantic entanglement in a long time. My beloved dog has died and after a year of myself, I feel oddly at peace.

But I miss people. I miss having a life. I no longer want to run away or move to a place where no one knows me and I can start over. I no longer think that is the answer to where I’m at. Nor do I want to immerse myself in some workaholic haven. I just want to get on with living somewhere outside the confines of my own mind. And maybe wanting to read books again is a first step.


Whether it is small interactions with people in line at the checkout counter or reading other people’s postings on the internet, I feel myself wanting to reach out. I’ve grown tired of the sticky goo surrounding me in my own cocoon. I need a way back into the world. The cocoon is no longer warm and cozy; it feels confining. My beautiful butterfly wings are crumpled and they want to break out, but I’m not sure if I can fly. I am certain that my colors are beautiful though, even if my wings are a bit wrinkled at the moment.

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