I can feel it coming.
I wish it was done already, because this spot is uncomfortable.
Why do these things always come at such inconvenient times? (because there is no convenient time)
I can tell it’s coming because I’m overeating, and vacuuming the whoooole house.
Not going back to the old thing, and not yet doing the new thing.
Just in this danged “hallway” people talk about.
And all I can see of the next door is cloudy and misty possibilities.
Leaves me edgy and crabby.
But even as I write this, I can feel the shift starting.
And it’s okay. It’s all okay. It’s going somewhere great, and as it all breaks down, ferments, and rebuilds inside me, and starts to resettle, it will feel awkward, awful, new, weird, and super uncomfortable.
I’ve had this before.
I trust it.
I always find my footing after.
The caterpillar doesn’t just emerge a full-on butterfly. No. In that cocoon the caterpillar turns into soup, a messy sludge. That’s where I am now.
It’s also true that the caterpillar already has within it all it needs to become the butterfly. Specifically, the microscopic structure for the wings is folded and collapsed down inside the caterpillar, under its skin.
So I don’t need some guru to follow here.
I am my own guru, I have my wing structure already inside me, and as I emerge from the goo I will know what to do next.
Haha, I see a few different pins in this paragraph. Stopping now to make them.
20 minutes later, here they are, inspired by talking with you.
Are you on Pinterest? Please follow me, I’ll follow back, and then I can share the template with you. Or you can just re-pin them from there if you like them.
What do you think?