You are ok as you are.
If you become a butterfly or not,
I respect you for caterpilling along doing your transitional thing.
Walking your path.
Even if you’re in a cocoon waiting to strut your beautiful wings and are afraid that they’re too damn bright.
I love you for it.
You are becoming. You are a caterpillar.
There are so many unhelpful stories about ‘becoming’
We judge ourselves for not being there
You want to be a writer but haven’t been published
You want a group of friends who ‘get you’
You want to get up and sing but you weren’t ‘born with it’
You want to heal that hurt but that’s not what happens in your family
None of this is helpful as it resides in the end result.
The polarity of ‘it’ or ‘not it’
You are either something or not something
We deny the greyness of liminality
The space between
The object à
the juicy shades of colour as we change
shedding skin
Yet if we are going to become anything
We have to cross the wobbly bridge and keep looking on
Without dwelling too long on the possible fall
Or fitting in when you get there
Come as you are
Caterpillar or butterfly
Cocoon or thought
Strut your becomingness
It is imbibed with all the wisdom you need
Just come
