I think I’m supposed to be in transformation. Or maybe it’s self-discovery? But I feel stuck in the chrysalis. I’ve been here way too long and it’s painful and confusing, and I feel impotent to complete the process. There are forces that are seemingly? beyond my control that are ensuring that the butterfly I’m meant to become never emerges.
I know there are things I’m supposed to be learning. Rewiring to happen, but it’s elusive. Sometimes I think I’m getting there, and the necessary practices are becoming habit, but then I slide back unable to sustain the effort of behavioral modification. My environment tests me daily, and I’m tired. So tired.
I used to think the aforementioned butterfly would be spectacular! That life on the other side would be that of a splendid, world-renowned guru of some sort demanding that I burst through in blinding brilliance, causing tsunamis of change. Now I’d be happy with just a touch of enlightenment, or even simple alignment between my heart and my outer world. A small, modest even blandly-colored butterfly. Even if I can’t fly, I just want to feel what it’s like to have wings and be whole.
It seems my reckless risk-taking and lack of boundaries over my lifetime has brought me to the loneliest place. The people I love most fiercely don’t care to see me. In fact, they wish I’d hush and pretend to be a caterpillar. I don’t think that’s possible is it? Does the goo ever reform in its previous state? Am I supposed to leave my caterpillar loved ones? That can’t be right. But it feels like it’s time to fly…or die.
I laugh ironically when I remember the time I believed they’d want to fly with me. I don’t make it look easy–it’s so messy and painful and unattractive. I am clearly missing something. Do I not deserve those wings? How cruel to see the stunning world of possibilities through a butterfly lens but from the vantage point of the chrysalis in which I’m trapped and gooey and wingless.
The answer is here somewhere in the goo with me. I can’t find it and I’ve been looking so long. I know this can’t go on forever. I’m not one to just give into the pain and accept that it will always be this way. But my liquefied cells don’t seem to know how to reorganize. Maybe my DNA is broken. I used to feel desperate. Now I just feel broken.
Restoring Justis 