Fetal Positions

I was just thinking the other day about how completely frustrating that must be to be a baby and then come out of the womb, into the cold air, the noise, the lights, etc., after having lived in a wonderful, nurturing environment for 9 months. I can only imagine it must be just about the scariest thing ever. And, cuddling up to the mother’s breast, in warm clothes, being held and protected must, indeed, be one of the most bonding moments in the life of a human being.

Even after we are grown, many of us still sleep in the most comfortable position, the fetal one, in the form that we once knew in the womb. It is the most comfortable to us, especially after a hard day, to just curl up into a ball, and allow sleep to calm us and ready us for the next day.

How must a butterfly feel, emerging from the cocoon? After having so many real growing pains and then, just getting too big for his home, having to branch out and spread his wings. Many exalt this moment as one of the crowning glories of God’s kingdom. But, I’ll bet it is not this feeling of waking up after an extremely restful sleep for the butterfly, I’ll bet it is extremely scary to have to come out of that warm, safe nest, to spend that first 2 hours so vulnerable, unable to fly because your wings are too wet. Just sitting there on that branch, drying, afraid some bird will eat you. Crowning moment of God’s kingdom, well, yes, but, nonetheless, scary as Hell, I would imagine.


Even though I am a grown man and have statistically no reason to be a worrier, I am. It is just an aspect of my personality to be extremely tightly wound. Sometimes I find it hard to go out into the world and function, pretending to be a regular, average Joe. I’m not saying I am anything special or better, it’s just that I have always had an inherent mistrust of my fellow man, a fear of crowds of nameless people, a need to stay, balled up, in my cave until the search for food made it inevitable to venture out.

I don’t know why I feel this way. For being such a sarcastic hard-ass most of the time, I am sure people would be surprised at how vulnerable I actually feel much of the time. But, it’s true. I am too sensitive for the world. Overall, I would say that my existence here in Europe, in my profession is idyllic. Yet, I find myself rather hating my colleagues much of the time, because they are so tough, and resistant to any kind of negative tension. I wasn’t really made for show business, I guess, except that I have something to say. Often the people that have something to give to the art form are consumed by it. I guess that’s why we have so many hacks on the stage.

I try to be a pragmatist when it comes to understanding life and philosophy. So, now that I know this about myself, that it will always be hard to survive, what is the pragmatist’s solution?