As a child I used to collect these in my grandparents’ back yard here in Eastern North Carolina. They had multiple trees that would be covered with these cicada shells and we would get a bucket and walk around collecting them. I have no idea why I enjoyed it so much, but now, as an adult, I can’t see one without thinking of my grandfather who passed away some years ago.
There’s some metaphor and symbolism in there if I wanted to find it, and reading Jung lately, my mind is definitely primed for it. But more importantly, I realize how blessed and fortunate I am to have had a childhood with people who loved me. I grew up in a peaceful and honest place with others who invested in me becoming a successful and virtuous man (with moderate success perhaps). Even at my age now I’m looking forward to telling my grandmother (now 101 years old) that I found a cicada shell in my own back yard.
In a time where we fall into emotional channels of unhappiness about things over which we have no control (I am guilty of this as much as anyone), there is so much to be grateful for. This is worth remembering often - keep ownership of your mind and your soul in these times.
