Out on a walk today I found a field of butterflies.
Calling out to me.
“Come play, come fly, come twirl around.
I remember being a hungry caterpillar.
Munching away to my heart’s content.
Shedding my skin when it felt too tight.
Until I eventually retreated into my cocoon.
So I could fall apart – essential to becoming again.
To become anew.
To emerge with wings and shimmery colours.
I’m not here to be stern or solid.
I’m not here to be defined.
I transform. Embracing flight, change, beauty, grace.”
I recently adopted a swallowtail caterpillar – named Frida. On my balcony she’s happily munching on her fennel, growing bigger by the day. I’ve become absolutely fascinated by her and have spent many joyous moments observing her.
I dropped off social media a while ago and put most of my offerings on hold. I myself cocooned and retreated. I needed time to tend to my sensitive soul and system, to fall apart, to rearrange, to rest, to be present in my surroundings. To stay in one place – like Frida on her favourite plant.
Movement and stagnation.
Grief and aliveness.
Butterfly – reminding me to emerge again. Playfully I hold past, present and future all in one. I can be caterpillar, cocoon and butterfly. All at once.
