“Run, jump, fall, evolve, fly.
Repeat each step as needed.” – KP

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Sleep by Makaih Beats

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RUN JUMP FALL EVOLVE FLY
(Metamorphosis)
by Kendall F. Person

I know how the day feels. The kind that was so full of challenges and perceived setbacks that when it finally came to an end, you were so numb and frustrated, that you could not even cry yourself to sleep. You had so many plans, meticulously made and not one materialized or even somewhat went your way. The sunny skies that were predicted were cloudy and gray and the big promotion that you deserved went to someone else, and your disappointment could not be hidden even though you knew, the benefactor was deserving too. And you were angry with your best friend because when you called them to vent, they were preoccupied with their own problems and had little time to listen.

You are still mad at your Dad for something he did even though you cannot remember exactly what that something was, but bitterness has a hold on you so you dive into your bed and wrap the blankets around you. But absorbed in so much grief, that the sandman takes a pass. So you lie there and think of how life has gotten away from you and without knowing or intentions, you plant the seeds for tomorrow, that it will be the same way too. But the moon breaks free of the cloudy cover and your eyes focus on a creature outside your window, and for a brief moment, your thoughts are diverted toward the butterfly and the beauty of the life it has.

Butterflies are not born beautiful nor are they born with wings to fly. In their early stage, they spend nearly every waking hour in search of food to not simply stay alive, but to complete their life cycle. To develop wings, to radiate color, and over great distances, to pollinate plants and flowers, giving the bees some much needed help. But before the butterfly can provide beauty to the world, they must first survive as a caterpillar and stare down all of the challenges, that each day in the life of does bring.

At first we fight, like a newborn child, so tired of screaming, but unwilling to give up. We drag our days problems into our protective shell, causing nightmares in our dreams, and aches and pains as we toss and turn. But there are ways to relax our minds, to shut our brains down, and allow the metamorphosis we need to rejuvenate; to welcome in peace and serenity, giving us the strength, the courage and the fortitude to not only face tomorrow, but to treat it with the respect and dignity that each new day deserves.

If the caterpillar has been resourceful and has found enough food, and if it has been smart and outwitted the multitude of predators hell bent on finding food too, and if it has been strong and maneuvered around or over or through the unforeseen obstacles, that appeared at every turn, and if it has allowed nothing to halt its vision nor its dreams or ambitions, then it evolves into a chrysalis, and anchors to a sturdy foundation, then wraps itself in its own cocoon.

But what makes the butterfly so special, is that even though it knows that when its metamorphosis is through, and as a caterpillar it has dodged every bullet – reaching the pinnacle – emerging with beautiful color and sturdy wings, there will be new challenges ahead, new bridges to cross, but it is ready for the new day, because while wrapped in its peaceful cocoon, new dreams have emerged from the old ones not reached or did not consume it.

Sketch Butterfly by Annie Spratt

Try as we might to assure all goes right, there are bad days on the horizon. But too many bad days can lead to stagnation or worse yet, depression, and both work against our happiness and our feelings of self-worth. So at the end of each day, especially the bad, find a place in your heart, or re-imagine the future, or kiss your kids goodnight, or think of my butterfly and grab hold of that moment, providing comfort for your mind as you enter the nightly metamorphosis. When you awaken, greet the sunrise and then be ready to run or jump or fall or evolve…. then fly.

this is… The Neighborhood
cover: unsplash collection of photographers
ballerina: Precious Adams

On April 1st, there is no April fools