IN HER COCOON

The sound of water smacking the rooftop woke her up. Lamenting her situation she whined a little and stretched her body back onto her bed. Under her big soft blanket, Devine relaxed into its warmth- the only warmth she could find. She could lie in bed for an extra hour to prolong the fate of nothingness that awaited her day. Otherwise, she could go to the bathroom and attempt to cough up the mucus left behind from last week’s flu. Neither option seemed too pleasing. Unmoved, Devine continued to leave a lasting imprint in her mattress.

The last week had been horrible. She had caught the flu and had to be in bed and eat chicken soup for 5 consecutive days. She missed her best friend’s birthday party, then found out the man of her dreams had attended it. To make matters worse, the week before her brother and sister had called to scold her for making a huge mistake in her life. Apparently, choosing art school over law school was not good enough for their monetary ambitions. In that same week her father had called to tell her that he didn’t want to hear from her until she applied to med schools. A week before that she disappointedly found out that she didn’t get accepted into any art schools.

After 24 years of painting, drawing, and making pottery; after winning multiple art contests as a child and teenager; after 4 years of being an art major at a liberal arts school; after interning at the Kimmel Center and the Smithsonian; after graduating 3rd in her major; after seeing a future for herself in creative abundance, she was not comparable enough to the other applicants who were accepted. To her this translated into her parents not giving any philanthropic gifts to the universities along with her applications.

Devine lay in bed thinking about her father’s words: you’ll never be a great artist. It happens for so few people and then you can't even feed yourself. You have to be realistic and do what’s right for everyone. She lay in bed thinking of her siblings’ advice: Devine, you had better go to law school. It’s what you wanted to do when you were in high school, so what’s made you change your mind now. Being a lawyer is respectable and you could always specialize in intellectual rights for artists. Be smart, don’t be a painter.

Devine lay wound in her blanket remembering all the hard work she put into becoming an artist. But, now she had to deal with being an adult. She had to consider the economy, her lifestyle needs, and her bank account. She had to consider maybe having a family one day, possibly being a single mother one day, or being the primary bread winner unexpectedly. She had to consider the cost of paint and supplies, the cost of entering competitions, the cost of more networking, more applications, more denials, her waning integrity, and the cost of following her dreams.

As a responsible adult, she had to factor in possible medical costs if she got sick one day. She had to admit she wanted a house and two cars, plus a dog and of course, a Prada purse and maybe a pair of Jimmy Choos someday. So, for the past week that she was in bed recovering from the coughs, chills, congestion, and night sweats from her flu, Devine figured out what she would do.

She decided to ignore her dreams, in favor for some long-awaited security and sacred peace and quiet from everyone else. She would become a nurse. Not all the way, but some of the way. Then instead of working constantly like most doctors, she could go home four or five days of the week and paint. She lay with this idea all week: detaining her heart somewhat. It felt horrible. It felt like the mucus she kept trying to get rid of. It felt like the tears she cried unexpectedly when she thought of what she had to do. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel wrong either.

Devine lay underneath her warm blanket, listening to the rain on the rooftop and sniffing from the cold puddle under her cheek dampening her pillow case. Today would be the day that she would get up to take that step. She had nothing to lose. Her dreams were diluted by rejection letters, a suffering economy, and too many opinions of others siphoning into her own. She had talent, but no support. She had vision, but no more childhood ambition. She had options, but no more faith in The Universe and its plans for her. She had to create another way so The Universe would give her new plans, new ambition, new dreams, and new support. She knew she had nothing to lose, only something to gain.

At her friend’s birthday party, for instance, her crush David Dillinger had showed up. She had been in love with him since high school. They were friends, but nothing else. She had even been so bold once upon a time to tell him she really, really liked him. Funny thing about it, they were friends but he never responded to her statement. He had just smiled, hugged her, and walked away. Now, there was another in the picture. He wasn’t her type by any means. He was suave, stunning and confident. Secure was his middle name. He had a better-than-good job, and he wanted to date Devine. She warded off his cocky attitude for months just waiting for David. Anything for David…

However, Devine had nothing to lose with Suave Secure Stunning. Rather, she had something to gain. She was ready. She was ready for a life she didn’t want, but had to make herself want. It wasn’t settling to her. It was attempting to make her future better than just pining away for someone who didn’t want her and diligently painting with no reward. Devine’s previous life had become very sad to her. They were hard beginnings, but she had to make them. She had to work toward happiness, love given and received, a profession that wouldn’t let her down, and a home for herself.

Though the day seemed to bring nothingness from her heart, Devine identified that it would be a step toward her new goals. Though she had been awakened by raindrops, she knew eventually there would be sunshine. Though she lay in bed for that extra hour saddened by circumstance, she knew she could make something out of nothing. Intimidated, low, and tired as she lay in her cocoon of warmth, she knew soon she would unravel from it a healthier, wiser, and more beautiful woman.