In a world where facts are disregarded; where questionable, often fake news is swallowed whole by the President himself, and credible news is accused of being fake; where there is little agreement on what the most pressing concerns are; and where we seem to be more interested in ranting and raving on social media than in hearing the perspectives of our opponents, leading to exponentially increasing divisiveness, how to we get to the root of it all and enact real, lasting, meaningful change?
Instead, a strand of grief winds intimately around one of pleasure forming a single indistinguishable thread that becomes a part of the fabric of my being.
For a caterpillar to become a moth, it must literally digest itself. It eats and eats until one day it’s time to build its cocoon. Once inside, our caterpillar friend liquifies. L i q u i f i e s. Every cell – except for a few imaginal cells that hold the information needed to create wings, antennae, body, brain (we’ll get back to these later) – surrenders to the process; dying to the life and purpose it knew in order to fuel the form to come.
In my body-heart-mind, this whole-hearted engagement feels like the path to redemption. Maybe it’s too simple, naïve and innocent, but maybe, just maybe, living fully and completely into who we are in each and every moment is redemptive in and of itself.
She wishes she could disappear because she believes that’s what everyone wants from her: To disappear so that she can be whatever it is they want her to be rather than actually being herself.
It’s only recently that I’ve uncovered the incredible significance of this word — elders — and only recently that I’ve felt the incredible pain of their absence. I only knew their lack once I felt the power of their presence.
Far more complex than simply one who is older, an elder is one who is intentionally fostering and investing in upcoming generations. Because she is closer to death than to birth, she will most likely not receive a direct return on her investment; the fruits of her labors will be tasted by those that come after her. She is paying it forward to benefit all of Life.
A few weeks ago I turned thirty, and as I sit here writing, I’m sharply aware that I have entered a whole new decade, with a whole new number to utter when someone asks my age. Thirty. As a girl, where did I imagine I would be — who did I imagine I would be at this age? Here’s where I am: