You can say you’re letting go and moving on, but one of the hardest things to let go of is that sense of identity. The new way of life is going to feel very unfamiliar. It really is like a caterpillar changing into a butterfly.
Sometimes it’s the pain that reminds us to stay on the new path. The old way is so obviously not wanted that we’re determined never to go back. Pain can be useful like that.
Of course, there comes a day when we realize that this is the path we’re supposed to be on, and no power on earth can keep us from it. I get glimpses of that feeling, like sunlight peeking through clouds. That’s when I see that this is a journey of the heart.
It’s strange to think that six months have passed since my last post. Looking back, I not only believe in what I wrote, I’m more of an embodiment of those intentions.
People often use the analogy of the butterfly emerging from its cocoon — and I could compare the past several months to that — but maybe if the caterpillar had an ego, it would be writhing in psychological pain during the process. Perhaps our ego is like a caterpillar that (at some invisibly appointed time) must wall itself off from the world and become a Hanged Man. Then some kind of alchemy occurs — our insides and outsides become one — until we metamorphosize into what we always were in potential.