Metamorphosis

We don’t find ourselves, we become ourselves.

Like the butterfly in chrysalis—born one thing, and becoming another.


I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be. - Joan Didion

We suffer unnecessarily by clinging to what we resist changing. We yearn for change yet fear it, eager for slowness until it arrives, attaching ourselves to the very stagnation we prayed away.

Everything is always changing; impermanence is the only guarantee. Life is a series of beginnings—subtle or abyssal—without which we'd stand still. Each shift, salvation or loss, molds us, moving us forward, even if mere inches.

Almost all the rest is oblivion.

You are not who you think you are, in your story or others'. Our aliveness lies not in becoming who we thought we were, but in surrender.

As summer unfolds, the air has come alive with the flutter of monarch butterflies. They dance on the breeze, embodying freedom after their profound metamorphosis. Their presence is a living reminder of transformation. Monarchs are the epitome of presence, patience and progression. Monarchs and other species need to hang vertically so that when they enclose, gravity can assist in their wings forming properly.

We, too, are often called to settle into discomfort in order to evolve.

Patience is wisdom, accepting that things unfold in their own time. Our minds wander, overwhelming our perception of the present. Patience helps when agitated, reminding us that meaningful moments don't require constant activity or thought. Being patient means openness to each moment, accepting it fully and without judgment. Recognizing that, like a butterfly's transformation, things unfold naturally.

Failing to emerge from our chrysalis leads to suffocation. We're called to break out of what we've outgrown. You either go toward the light or die in the darkness.

We are here to evolve. Transcendence requires radical, permanent metamorphosis. Like the butterfly shedding her cocoon—emerging only because she saw the light shining through.