Yesterday I had to explain to my 14-year-old son the metaphor of the chrysalis. I told him that a caterpillar doesn’t just transform into a butterfly as an extension of its former self; it has to create a protected environment for a period of complete breakdown, during which it becomes unrecognizable: basically a gooey, presumably green, translucent substance that is neither caterpillar nor butterfly. Then and only then does the process of building its new form begin.
I told him this for two reasons. The first is that his summer has sort of fallen apart: the cross-country trip to visit his friends in Wisconsin unfortunately had to be cancelled, and then we found out that the school he’s enrolled in for 9th grade just blew apart because of a mutiny among the faculty. In fact, with the possibility of our family relocating to a new community in the fall, all sense of groundedness and certainty just vanished for him. He started feeling like the butt of a cruel joke of the Universe, and it was time to tell him about the chrysalis, the chemical undoing of the caterpillar, and that he may be receiving some kind of direction rather than punishment.
The second reason?
Because little does he know, this is happening to our whole family on a much larger scale, and I needed to hear the reminder myself.
I won’t bore you with the details, but we are currently being hit by so many of the classic transitions and unknowns that make those ‘Top 5 Marital Stressors’ lists, that just for fun I wrote them all down and it was closer to 12. They’re stacked, like a pile of yellow and pink envelopes with ‘Urgent’ stamped on the front. Not that I would know nothing about those.
We are firmly in the Amorphous Blob phase, when all assumptions and plans seem to have been upended in preparation for… what exactly? If it’s on a need-to-know basis, apparently we don’t need to know.
Location. Livelihood. Physical, mental, financial and spiritual health are all in need of a refresh. And for good reason: we are coming out of a long, five-year season where our bandwidth was consumed by loss, death, COVID, career setbacks and other fun-for-the-whole-family activities. Most recently our older son got stuck in Israel on his first-ever trip abroad, because three days after he got there an actual war broke out and he had to cross the border to Jordan just to get back home.
It’s reflection time. Realignment time. Recovery time.
BLOB TIME.
So why would I be writing this through the green, blurry murk? Does whining pair well with my morning coffee? Am I looking for commiseration? Solidarity? Sympathy???
Nope. I am simply reminding you, myself, my dear boys and anyone else within earshot that sometimes we cannot continue onwards in our present form. We won’t achieve our work in this world, our ‘destiny’ if you will, by living as we were, in our caterpillar incarnation. The messy process of disintegration and reintegration, when it really needs to happen, is not a step we can skip.
Whether it’s a round of disappointing news like my son received, a bigger setback or a collapse of norms on any level, we have to look for doors opening. Little nudges of intuition or guidance. Pathways lighting up, even if they’re just neuro-pathways. Otherwise we’ll just Freak Out, and no one can use their intuition when they’re freaking out.
I would love to be writing to you from a place of calm and confidence right now! I would also like to take a helicopter ride through the Himalayas (seriously). But those will have to wait. For now, you get what is: the amorphous blob, the primordial goop, the icky, sticky material with which God seemingly likes to work His magic.
Keep on truckin’, friends!