Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis;

Ready or not,

It always comes;

Sometimes when we’re ready,

Many times when we’re not.

& the thing I’ve noticed over the years,

Is that those that seem to have the most to say about your process of transformation

Are those willing to know the least about who it is you came to be.

It’s like trying to explain to a Being of the Sea what it’s like to be a Creature of the Skies;

Or the moth trying justify why her expression is more appropriate than the butterfly’s.

There’s no comparison.

They each came to embody very different things.

I can already hear the butterfly in her newly formed and freshly exercised wings;

She would say something like,

“I see you’ve taken an interest in my process of becoming.

And I understand you may think you’re coming from a certain kinda place,

Seated upon your throne of Holier Than Thou,

Or in your words, a concerned pal.

But you have not journeyed through the Shadowlands that I have,

You have not steeped in the loathing, the pressure, the agony,

From trying to contort myself into spaces and places that were never meant to house me;

You have not the slightest idea of how much Light I have learned from soaking in this Dark,

& you’re more than welcome to swallow your unsolicited thought process on who I’m supposed to be

How I’m supposed to show up,

The ways in which I’m supposed to express myself,

In order to make you

Or anybody else for that matter

Feel comfortable.

That is to live inside of a container.

That is to perpetuate the Greatest Tragedy of All Time;

My job description is not for you to determine.

Because believe it or not

It is woven into the very fabric of my being,

The blueprint of who I am,

To be the embodiment of the Truth,

The living reminder that

There is much, much more to life

Than the safe

Little

Chrysalis.”

🦋