December 20, 2020

I am many things, but I am not, I repeat-I am not- the girl who uses butterfly metaphors to describe the world,

But 2020 has been a different year, hasn’t it? So here I go, acknowledging that this is (marginally) outside of my comfort zone and posting anyway.

There are 11 days left in this crazy year. A year that has unwound us, challenged us, forced us all to look at our lives from the largest to the smallest details and reconsider all the things we’ve been taught about living in the world, about our choices, our careers, our relationships, our families, the minutia of our everyday lives. This year has propelled us into considering and reconsidering the experience of being human.

I’ve said it countless times: I feel like the mush. The mush inside the chrysalis (definitely had to look that word up). The space between being a caterpillar and a butterfly. The sensation of having full faith that life will continue to unfold and that the unfolding will be magic. The knowledge that in the grand arch of the world and history and humans, it always is.

We all regularly feel like we’re not doing it right. And the best and worst part is that it is typically within the hardest and most painful things that growth occurs. The cocoon is comfy and cozy, being mush is familiar. But adversity is where we become butterflies. Transformation happens. It happens slowly, it happens quickly, and it happens whether we allow it and like it or not. I’m writing this not only to remind you, but to remind myself. And like I said before, please excuse me. I’m not usually the kind of girl who relies so heavily on a butterfly metaphor