Shares from a Spring’s Emergence: The Butterfly as my Teacher
April 19th, Naranjal, Costa Rica, My Journal
I’m experiencing a lot in the space. Mmmm. There is this clinging in search of comfort or meaning beyond myself. These threads seem to be wanting to leave me, and too, it hurts when it’s on the surface.
I only want to live in and by my freedom. To know my place amongst it all. To feel the earth and the wind guiding my feet on their path as if there is no distinction between who is what. And perhaps all of this is just that path if I see it.
The clinging limits my ability to take in Life. My clinging is conditioned, patterned, and linear, and Life is this grand, mysterious spectacle, unfolding moment by moment. This path does not feel easy to my human body. Aloneness and then space to be with that aloneness. And I do know how important and revealing and unfolding all of this is for my journey of returning to myself. One day, I will look back with fondness on the existential emptiness I sometimes feel these days.
And, can I know that each time I walk the path back to Truth and Flow, I’m clearing that pathway for the whole universe to walk? I’m clearing my brush so this path is here for those who come later.
The mind is a funny place. I have so craved wild aloneness while I travel alone. And then, in it, I find myself seeking communion and partnership. It’s all happening, regardless of what I do or think.
April 20th, Naranjal, Costa Rica, My Journal
Energies always shift. From despairful aloneness and feeling drained to this abundant aliveness and a luminous energy body. I’m looking for safety and comfort in old costumes, and I won’t find it there. Those have come and gone, even if my personality still has some patterns of expressions in those old clothes. At times, it is a soft and sweet melting away. At others, it feels violent. The openings often subtle–the noticing of a slight expansion to let more of Life in. And then the stickiness often drastic and feeling so foreign.
Can I lean from the caterpillar? On one hand, its journey linear and in some perfect order. On another, a complete destruction of everything it knows. And it witnesses this slow death before its most Divine expression unfurls as a butterfly. The imaginal cells like the light of the soul. The blueprint chosen long before Life became form. The resonance of that vision growing stronger as everything he once knew completely dies.
In this way, it’s totally non-linear. Perhaps he feels the most empty and scared right before the imaginal cells take form as a butterfly. No foundation in this in-between moment because all that was as a caterpillar is no longer.
Almost nothing feels True to me except that which is True. I see these glimpses of seeds sprouting, and yet, they feel unreachable in this present form. I only want to water those seeds for it is the place where I find peace. And, I am not yet able because I am not the one doing the watering. I can only hold the knowing of what is to come. The cocoon protects the butterfly in this time. One has to be its most vulnerable for this transformation to happen. My cocoon is this land and the holding of my deepest Light.
