I’m working on a great At the Smithy post regarding treating hypothyroidism with Ayurvedic remedies, but it’s taking me longer than I thought so today you get an oft-used metaphor: the caterpillar becoming the butterfly.
There are lots of great quotes about caterpillars turning into butterflies and what that all symbolizes but I’m too lazy to look any up. Plus my quote book is inconveniently at home and I’m not, so I’ll just tell you what this particular metaphor is saying to me at the moment.
I love butterflies
Who doesn’t, right? Well, there’s always someone, I suppose, but I’m definietly on the butterfly bandwagon. I love their beauty, their flutteriness, the way they symbolize new life and beauty coming from ugliness less than attractiveness (no offense, caterpillars). Every time I see a butterfly, it’s like a little personal message from above telling me there’s hope. In fact, just about every time I’m feeling melancholy a butterfly will cross my path at some point. I take it as a gentle reminder that things will get better.
I am not a butterfly
Not right now, anyway. Right now I feel ugly, constricted, hunched, slow. But I can feel the potential for great things in the future. I know there are beautiful wings of career, financial, health, and relationship improvements waiting to unfurl. They can’t unfurl, however, until I have grown them. In this metaphor, I am in the chrysalis–or transformative–stage.
I am in between, in process, and until now, I have been trying to be a butterfly while skipping the chrysalis stage. This stage is important, vital, and in actuality, a tremendous gift.
Cozy up the Cocoon
It actually sounds kind of appealing, this cocooning. I get to retreat from the world and rest. No expectations of performance, no busyness, no worries about my appearance.
The question is, how do I maintain the qualities of a cocoon while carrying out my daily life? I will be pondering this, and welcome any suggestions. For now, I know it means this: plenty of sleep, including naps; focusing on my insides and avoiding the criticisms of the mirror; meditation; permission to be less productive than I “should” be.
Another good question: am I as comfortable as I can be at this moment in time? Am I wearing my most comfy clothes? Taking deep breaths? Rolling my shoulders? Maintaining a comfortable posture? Am I even where I want to be and doing what I want to be doing?
It occurs to me that in the end, our bodies are the cocoon of our spirits, giving them a safe (hopefully) place to transform until it’s time to unfurl our angel wings and fly into the next world. Another reason to treat our bodies with respect, while not obsessing over them.
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Apologies for the slap-dash nature of this post, but I wanted to get this out there even if I didn’t have time to polish it. My question for you:
What does your cocoon look like?