Caterpillar Soup

I sat in my hammock, contemplating the Cosmos. I have not been feeling very well, and so my mind has been a bit clouded with an uncomfortable fog. When I feel physically under-the-weather, my heart tends to get a little more heavy, and I find my emotions harder to control. I have entertained many tears these last few days. I also watched the movie Me before You, which caused a violent release of pent-up feelings to come flying to the surface. (Perhaps I will blog about that another time.) 

Anyway, like I was saying, I was sitting upright in the hammock, using the tree as a launching pad, to rock myself back and forth in a soothing motion. Tears were gently falling, and I whispered to my Heavenly Father, "Please, please, I need to know that You love me, that You care." Sometimes the loneliness can be so intense for me, that all I can do is simply cry out, "Please, Father." And that is my prayer. Add feeling sick to lonely and I say, "Pretty please, Father."

Not a moment later, I saw something fall from the tree, into a pile of leaves at my feet. I had apparently caused something to lose its grip with my rocking motion. I slid out of the hammock, and searched for the fallen object.

It was a large caterpillar.

For some, this may be of little consequence.

But for me, a caterpillar is a big deal, and a direct answer to my prayer.

I wiped away my tears, and said, "Thank you!" to my Heavenly Father. He knows how symbolic butterflies have been for me. He knew what I needed in that moment. I scooped up the baby butterfly. We are now watching it, as it begins its transformation, and forms its chrysalis.

Finding the caterpillar made me curious about the transformation from a caterpillar to a butterfly. We have all read the Hungry Caterpillar, but I became interested in how the caterpillar changes so drastically into a completely different creature. How is it that it goes from crawling around in the dirt, to flying freely in the flowers?

I do not want to get all scientific in my explantation, mostly because I have no expertise in the field, at all. But it is my understanding -- as a mom who did a little internet searching on the subject -- that while the caterpillar is inside the cocoon, there is a point in the transformation where there is basically a jumbled up mess of body parts and pieces. If you were to open the chrysalis at a certain point in the transformation process, you would find caterpillar soup. Gross, I know. But fantastically amazing!

This interested me. This particular point in the process, where the caterpillar is at its most vulnerable, and not even really one creature, or the other. It cannot crawl or fly, all it can do is wait for the planets to align, as all of the pieces fall into place, as the wings and other parts begin to take form.

I feel like I am in the "caterpillar soup" phase, right now.

I feel I have moved past the stage of crawling around in the dirt of grief and sorrow, but as much as I want to, as much as I have a hope to... I cannot quite seem to fly, yet. I catch these glimpses, and feel these feelings, but there is something that holds me back from spreading my wings completely. At least that is how it feels sometimes.

It feels like I should just be able to "shake it off" and rise above the events of the past and move on, without looking back. I do not want to feel this grief that accompanies loss, but it is part of the process. I feel like I should be able to rise up and fly above all that I have experienced: it is not quite that simple. I do not dwell on the past too much, and I look to the future with hope. The past is still part of who I am, as I move forward. The things that have happened, make me who I am today. I can't just make a clean break from the past, from losing Charles. I have to learn to carry it with me, but somehow not let it weigh me down. It is a difficult balance sometimes.

I keep kind of waiting for this moment of freedom to occur. I want to feel free, and then stay feeling free, if that makes sense? Like in some fabulous moment of glory, I will only be flying free with no troubles or sorrows... wouldn't that be nice?

But once a butterfly gets its wings, its trials are not yet over. A new variety of experiences will begin. The view may be different from above, rather than below, but the winds of life are no less potent to those with wings.

I think that in life, the transformation process is ongoing -- it is not a one time thing. Crawling around in the dirt, feeling like a pile of soup, and then gaining wings to fly is a process that occurs repetitively throughout the span of a human life. As we continue to go through different experiences we learn and grow, become more capable and vibrant, and then there will be another round of life that will test us, and we will need to transform once again.

I was reminded by my little caterpillar friend (who we named Hope), that life is full of opportunities to stretch and grow, and become something new. Maybe I do not have my wings, yet, but my desire to fly is growing. The things I am experiencing now, are important for my future ability to take flight. I also recognize that life is not meant to be experienced just from the soaring position. Sometimes life can cause us to crawl on our knees, searching, pleading, and hoping for better days to come.

If you find yourself in the "caterpillar soup phase," be patient, take courage, have hope.

The time to launch is just on the horizon.