Thoughts on the Quiet of the Cocoon

Life moves in seasons. Some are bright and full of motion… others are quieter, slower, and harder to understand while you’re in them.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the way transformation actually happens... not in the busy seasons, but in the hidden ones. The Very Hungry Caterpillar doesn’t transform while it’s racing around or consuming everything in sight. That’s its season of nourishment. It eats, it grows, it prepares.

But then comes the cocoon.

In the cocoon, there’s no striving, no motion, no proof of progress. Everything that happens, happens quietly. It’s a time for rest, repair, and re-creation. If you peeked inside, you wouldn’t see the flapping of wings or any sign of beauty yet. But that’s the sacred part... the work is happening where no one can see.

Sometimes our lives feel like that too. We go through pain, stillness, or waiting and wonder why we’re not moving forward. But what if that stillness isn’t a setback? What if it’s the necessary pause before becoming something new?

I’ve been in seasons like that before. After my dad passed, I found that I couldn’t control much... not my emotions, not my energy, not even what came next. But I could clear one small space. I could wipe the countertop, make it shine, and feel calm for five minutes. That act of care became its own kind of cocoon. A place where I could rest and breathe.

When life feels uncertain, I think we all need one space like that. A place that feels simple and safe.
A spot that reminds us we’re still capable of creating peace, even when we can’t fix everything else.

It could be a cleared-off nightstand, a freshly made bed, a small basket to catch the day’s clutter. Something manageable and yours.

And eventually, as time passes, something begins to shift. The light comes in differently. The energy returns. And the butterfly emerges... lighter, freer, ready to move forward.

Maybe that’s the real lesson: that the cocoon isn’t the end, it’s the middle. The transformation is already underway, even when we can’t see it. Growth is happening, even in the quiet.