the butterfly

The butterfly chose me more than I chose her. She showed up in my artwork before I knew what she was telling me. She showed up as a logo before I had a business.

Cliche, I know. Believe me, I resisted her. But she persisted.

An outer expression of an inner transformation. Transmutation. Evolution. What a beautiful thing to come into our next version.

And I was talking to someone today and we were acknowledging the pain of that transformation. To have your whole world shook, to retreat into a cocoon and utterly disintegrate, turn to goo.

And oh the emergence. It’s not the beauty of the butterfly. Or even the flight. It’s that she can look back and see all that she’s gone through to get to this place. She knows what she’s made of.

And that, that is just everything.

I no longer resist her. I adore her and her transformation, just as I adore my own.