No estirar la pierna mas de lo que alcanza la manta.
Don’t let your feet stick out of the blanket. That is what this proverb says. It’s about knowing where your limitations are.
It’s cold outside, and there is a blanket for each child. One of them likes to sleep, she likes to dream. Under her blanket, folded to resemble the shell of a snail. The perfect hiding place. To dream. To stay warm, without going anywhere. The other one doesn’t like to dream. His feet get restless. He needs to walk, even in his sleep. That means that his feet always end up sticking out of his blanket. And the cold gets hold of him. But that is what socks are for.
I can walk. I can endure the cold. It doesn’t matter how poorly this life treats me. I know that at the end of the day I will have a refuge for my soul, that I will be able to curl up under my blankets, inside my snail’s shell.
Slowly but surely. Slowly but surely. Slowly but surely. If only someone had told me that it would mean spending this much time feeling cold.
What good is a snail’s shell if I don’t have anything to protect inside it? There is me. But I don’t have any dreams.
I am sleeping inside my snail’s shell. It is cold outside. I am walking, I am living in my dreams. I see no reason to wake up.
I could have done so many creative, imaginative things with these socks. Using them just to banish the cold kills something in me.
The world is cold and unwelcoming. I like knowing that I only have to put on a pair of socks to have a home where I am welcome.
Supposedly, the reason we don’t get what we need is to motivate us to complete the work. That the blanket never covers our feet to prompt us to knit a pair of socks. But I only feel like I don’t matter.
The world is cold and socks exist to be able to feel comfortable in it. Words exist for the same reason.