Birth….

As I begin this blog, it does feel like an act of birth, even though that seems a bit cliche. I write another blog called Healing Hearts for my work at Children’s Grief Connection and for me at least, I find it to be laborious.  A labor of love, but a lot of work because so much of your soul goes into what you write, similar to giving birth to a child, it is not without a great deal of thought, heart and soul.

The new year is just beginning, only one day old as I write this and that too is a new birth, a chance to begin anew, fresh, determined for a better future full of resolve.  Seems it just took a flip of the calendar page, the end of one day and the beginning of another to make the new year happen. Not much work there. Unless you struggled through the past year or years, unable to change your circumstances, to see a brighter future.

I have always been enchanted with the story of the emerging butterfly.  I was one of those kids who tried to scoop up the fuzzy caterpillar off the hot sidewalk, thinking I’d ‘save’ it from being stepped on (guess I have always been a ‘helper’), not thinking the butterflies had gotten along pretty well without me in the past and no doubt knew with all the legs they had what to do to keep going forward (see my current philosophy). Then I’d plunk the poor thing into a jar (so I could be entertained) add some twigs, leaves, a little water and wait.  It was like waiting for Santa to come, took forever and you weren’t quite sure what you would get. There were several, actually most, emergings that I missed, too busy playing, sleeping, not careful, watchful, patient enough to keep an eye out. Thanks to the adults in my life I did catch one or two and was always amazed at the struggle, what it took for the butterfly to work it’s way out and what it took for me (thankfully a very wise Grama watching me) to NOT help a little, not spread the coccoon open and just pull the butterfly out.  Grama explained that the butterfly needed to beat its wings against the coccoon to get its strength, to have its wings work.  I couldn’t help with that, the butterfly needed to do that on its own.

We all need to emerge from the coccoons that hold us back. Whether it is emerging from our grief, from abuse, from worry and regret, from a person who hurt us, from a life we no longer want or need; it will be a struggle, we will need to work on it and through it, we don’t get to fly, to soar without the struggle.

I am honored to continue to witness the struggle and the emergence; I still can’t cut away the coccoon and make it ‘go faster’ but now I know I can bear witness, I can support and I can offer comfort through the emergence, the transition… out of the coccoon.out of the coccoon

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