Cocoon Diaries: Entry #2 – How Preserving Your Environment, Preserves You

The Sanctuary Within
In chaos loud, my haven softly sings,
These four safe walls, my soul's unfolding wings.
The world outside may dance in selfish spree,
But peace resides in little things for me.

My family’s love, my heart’s eternal ground,
Where laughter blooms, and gentle arms surround.
My work I serve, with joy but not my chain,
It feeds my mind, but not defines my name.

The hurt may strike when dues don’t come to claim,
Betrayals near, with trust left scorched in flame.
Yet faith whispers: "Goodness finds its way,"
Though blessings shift, their light will never stray.

So here I stand, still shining, strong, and free —
A quiet world I built to house my ‘me’.

There was a time I thought goodness alone was an investment scheme — you deposit honesty, hard work, loyalty, and integrity, and voilà — dividends arrive right on schedule. Turns out, life skipped the finance class. My returns? Often delayed, sometimes missing, occasionally rerouted to someone entirely undeserving but exceptionally loud.

Yes, my friend, the heartbreak isn’t from strangers — oh no, they barely scratch the surface.
The real heavyweights come from close range:
The ones you trusted, rooted for, stood beside while they were busy rehearsing their betrayal backstage.
And when the curtains rose?
Surprise!
You weren’t even in the cast list. You were simply seated in the audience, holding tickets you paid for with your tears.

My Environment: My Oxygen Mask

But here’s where my cocoon saves me.

My home is not just where I live — it’s where I preserve.
It’s my charging station.
My drama filter.
My “breathe-in-breathe-out-and-don’t-murder” zone.

Inside these walls, I’m not judged, ranked, or backstabbed.
The plants grow, the coffee brews, my family laughs (and sometimes fights, but at least they’re mine), my dog snores, my books wait patiently for me — and peace gently returns like an old, faithful friend who doesn’t need an appointment.

Work? Yes, I love it.
It gives me joy, fuels my mind, stretches my creativity.
But does it define me?
No.
I’m not my deadlines or my salary slip.
I am my choices, my priorities, my little moments of grace.

The Bruises That Built Me

I was raised to believe in goodness first.
In honesty. In trust.
In the idea that people are inherently kind.
Cue entry of Reality Stage Left.
Betrayals, disillusionments, heartbreaks — I’ve seen them all up close, wearing familiar faces.

I’ve learned — painfully but thoroughly — that people disappoint not because you expect too much, but because they offer too little.

And yet, I continue to believe — stubbornly — that doing good isn’t about returns.
It’s about who you are, not what you get.

Even when my fair share doesn’t arrive, somewhere else in my life, a tiny miracle blooms. A child’s laughter. A kind word from a stranger. A moment of pure, ridiculous happiness watching my dog chase his own tail thinking it’s an intruder.

The Great Gift: Moving On With a Grin

Peace, I’ve learned, isn’t handed to you wrapped in bubble wrap.
You earn it.
You build it.
You defend it with every ounce of your sanity.

And humor?
Oh, that’s my survival gear.

After all, if you can’t laugh at the circus around you, you might as well start selling popcorn.

Continuing my Musings:

The world may continue its dramatic auditions.
But me?
I’ll sip my tea, hug my people, water my plants, write my stories, and walk my dogs —
and somewhere in between, find the kind of happiness that no betrayal can steal.

Because at the end of the day:
I don’t need the world’s applause. I just need my peace.

#CocoonDiaries

#Entry2

#PeaceAndPopcorn

#DramaFreeZone

#SelfPreservationWithStyle

#BruisedButUnbroken

#SanityFirst