It’s cicada season – the time in early summer when those eggs that were laid and buried years ago, emerge from the ground and sound their mating calls for all of us to hear. As you’ve likely read, this will be an emergence for the record books. While it’s fairly common for the 13 year and 17 year periodical cicadas to emerge in the same year, these two specific broods (the Great Southern Brood and Northern Illinois Brood) haven’t emerged together since 1803. These will join the harmonies of our annual cicadas in calling for a mate and providing the soundtrack that signals summer’s arrival in North Carolina.
We’ll know the cycle is in full swing when we start to spot their exoskeletons attached to trees. Many cicada species shed their nymph exoskeleton after each stage of development – up to 5 times! When cicada nymphs come out of the ground, they climb a tree, shed their shells for a final time, and slip away from predators under the cover of night to mate, leaving their shells hanging on branches. I think of them as a gift to little brothers everywhere who will undoubtedly use them to make their sisters squeal. These cicadas sing for a mate then lay their eggs in a tree branch, completing the drive to survive.
All this cicada news has me thinking about progress, growth, emerging, and leaving behind what no longer fits. A couple weeks ago my integrative doctor said to me the magical words I’ve waited a year and a half to hear: “we are done with the mold!” Praise be! There was much rejoicing in her office where, 18 months earlier, I had wept at the uncertainty of my health and my future.
These months have been full of progress, growth, and learning a new way to be in the world. While cicadas are underground, they feed off of sap from the trees. In this last year and a half, I’ve gone underground, so to speak, and fed on the proper supplements, medications, hormones, rest, and treatments. I’ve cleared out 90% of the toxic personal and household products from my life (for the love of all that is holy, if you can only do one thing, please stop using air fresheners of any kind!). I’ve created new medicine routines many times over and gotten used to being flexible, bending to the needs of my body as it has shifted throughout this process. I’ve dropped nearly 100 pounds after getting my autoimmune conditions under control, ridding my body of the massive inflammation mold brings, and targeting meds and hormones for my specific needs. I’ve sweated out gallons of toxins during hours of infrared saunas and epsom salt baths. After having chronic migraine for years, I haven’t had even one migraine in all of 2024. My med list continues to shrink (down to 32 meds or supplements a day!) as we work to get a few more factors in line for optimal wellness. I’m slowly building up a project load with moss+ross and Jubilee Healing Farm, both allowing me to work from home and still do what my body requires to continue my upward trajectory.
Through all that, I’ve grown over and over mentally, emotionally, and now, professionally. While I’m not a different person than I was in the fall of 2022, I have changed into a new form with a different world view and new appreciation for my body and health. I’ve shed so much of what I thought was important and let go of mindsets that didn’t serve me.
Looking back at the physical and emotional roller coaster I’ve been on, it seems that really I’ve just been in my cicada era. To survive, I had to go underground and retreat from the world. I worked hard on growing and changing under the cover of my mold toxicity treatment plan. I shed my old identity and had to wait it out for a while until my new exoskeleton was ready for the world. What a journey!
When interviewed about the cicada emergence, Kelly Oten, NC State Extension entomologist said, “They’re going to be very loud! Just keep in mind, they’re harmless, and it’s temporary.”
Growth and change can feel like that for us humans too. Being faced with new identities and ways of being in the world can make us get a little loud sometimes. Our mental and emotional growing pains can often sound like the cacophony of the cicada. But the process of shifting states is usually temporary and before we know it, we’re living into a new life and role. 18 months ago, I was staring into a darkness like I had never known. But now, I’m emerging, having collected lessons and practices that will serve me well going forward. I’m now healthier in ways I couldn’t have imagined at the start of this process. So, let the high pitched buzzing we’ll all soon endure be your sign to take a lesson from the cicadas. What’s been buried within you for the last year, or 17? Take some time in the coming months to shed your skin. Get rid of what you no longer need in the next phase of life. Break out of the shell that is holding you back and holding you in. Emerge into what’s next. And don’t be afraid to make some noise, if needed. It might just be the soundtrack of your new life breaking through.
How can you help?
- There are still lots of products I need on an ongoing basis that can be gifted, especially while I slowly get back to work. Check out the amazon wish list here.
Seeking Sabbath 