Shell Season
By: Amanda Briody
snails, seeds, hermit crabs, nuts, mollusks, bivalves, clams, crustaceans, turtles, armadillos, husks, and hulls. nature is full of shells. these organisms are our teachers for how to live well in winter. and while the signs of spring are already punching, popping and tweeting around us, it’s still cold outside. we are still in the season of preparing for spring, rather than being spring - the winter of winter.
we have shells too. the shell of your foot is the top of your foot. the shell of your hand is the back of your hand. the shell of your head is the back of your skull. the shell of your torso is your back. and counterintuitively, the shell of your leg is the front of your leg. the hard parts protect the soft parts. just like all the other shells in nature. we are made intelligently - balancing the vulnerability with protection, the receptivity with strength, the yin with yang. the hard, strong muscles of your back protect the vital organs inside your rib cage and abdominal cavity. the hardness of your quadriceps and shins protect the juicy meat of your hamstrings and calves. the hard bones of the back of the hand protect the hypersensitive and vulnerable palm of your hand.
as part of nature, we react to our surroundings. your body knows when it’s time to curl up into these shells. just like a seed knows when it’s time to lay dormant and protect its essence. just like a turtle knows when to tuck itself in. just like an oyster knows when to shut its mouth. usually, it’s to protect - from cold, from threat, from wasting resources, from getting yourself into a situation you might not get out of. or it’s to rest - to conserve, make repairs, do the inner work.
cold is congealing and concealing. instinctively, when we are cold, we curl up and in - contracting and condensing. think about how your body reacts to a biting wind. shoulders up, rounding forward, curling in to that protective shell of our back. if we stay too cold, too curled up, it can get stiff. things begin to harden. and hard things break. hard things don’t give or forgive easily. similarly, when we are frustrated or our boundaries are crossed we find ways to curl up like clenching our jaws and our fists, tensing. when we are afraid, we may even freeze - a momentary hardening. and again, these things, over time can harden us to the beauty and awe and wonder of what it means to be alive and live a life. we have to find ways to stay pliant. to remember and forgive. otherwise, the hardness can become brittle. it can break and shatter and that’s not protective at all.
no one instinctively opens the front of their torso to a threat. that is a choice. a statement. and we can consciously choose to find some softness in our shells, forgiveness in the backs of our hearts. because making it through the long hard road of winter requires a softening, a forgiving. and that softness is what allows what we have been protecting to radiate back outward when the time is right, when the conditions are in place. so look to your seeds and snails, your oysters and turtles and remember that a radiant summer requires a restful winter, a good pop in spring needs a forgiving shell.