As I go into this day I know I am ready to shed my next skin. Ready myself to emerge from the old cocoon that no longer serves me. By this evening I will be changed. Whenever you happen to be reading this I will be a different being, yet again. There is a constant and beautiful metamorphosis, and I realise that for some time I have been waiting for this all to come to an end. For the journey to be complete.
Yet I came to an understanding the other day that there is no end. And I was relieved, for the burden of finishing had become so heavy. I am reminded of the wise words, ‘Always being, always becoming’, and realise I have never quite understood them. I feel them now begin to land. Though resting in being, I can appreciate the eternal nature of becoming. There is no end, yet I am already there.
As I sit here in my garden I notice a little caterpillar making its way up a fine thread from the grass towards the branches of a tree. A good five metres off the ground. An epic feat for a tiny caterpillar yet it would not contemplate for a minute not to try. This is it’s journey, this is what it has to do. Contemplating the feasibility of the task is not an option. This caterpillar holds my medicine today. There is no stopping or delaying the change. There is exhaustion at times, there is pain and suffering through story, there is even the feeling of defeat. But the caterpillar feels none of this. It is all a fabrication to have me believe I am the victim to my life. In truth, I want this change so much that there is in fact no option to stop. Where once there was choice I see none. There is no time to stop and contemplate where this journey might take me. Just a steady movement of change towards change towards change. There is no end, yet I am already there.
I look up and the caterpillar has disappeared. Did it make it to the safety of the branch, or did it fall and have to start over again. Or did it get snatched up as a hearty meal for a bird. I will never know.
I will never know.