Sometimes we forget we’ve changed. Sometimes all we see is the old photo, out of date, blurred by time. But still razor-sharp in our mind’s eye.
Once, the story goes, there was a caterpillar. Who was bright green, ate stinky milkweed, and basically was rather homely. In a pretty green fashion.
Then there was a chrysalis, and it too was bright green. Until it began to darken, to a dark bullet of transformation.
And then, one day in late spring, there was a butterfly — gold wings webbed with satiny black, fascination of children & adults.
It was always going to be a butterfly. It always held within it metamorphosis.
I watch so many people I love concentrate on the caterpillar stage necessary to become a butterfly. The learning curve, the initial clumsiness w/ a new task. The fear that all you are is what you are now, and that not good enough. So that even when the chrysalis comes upon them, and you can almost see them changing? They only remember the chubby caterpillar. They never recognise the metamorphosis.
What if all this time, you’ve been a butterfly? What if the dream you remember is then, and the butterfly is now?
Just a thought. One you might consider, as you go about your days. Maybe all you need to do is look up.