“Who knows as we go
which way the path will lead...”
- Sarah Jean Webb -
Over twenty years ago I went on a modern-day vision quest with a Mayan shaman in the middle of Mexico. We would start each day with her writing down the personal stories and facts of my life as we sat outside a small café sipping coffee and eating huevos rancheros.
I remember each recounting of an event or experience made me feel like a caterpillar, ever-so slowly climbing an immense hill, then tumbling down the other side, only to sense in my squirmy self yet another seemingly insurmountable uphill slope, the long tumble . . .
Climb. Tumble. Climb. Tumble . . .
“You know what happens to caterpillars, don’t you?” My teacher’s brown eyes sparked and danced with her smile. “They turn into butterflies, able to fly over the hills and valleys, continually taking in the incredible distances they have traveled. You are here because it is your time to turn into a butterfly.”
Because of a synchronistic meeting with Sarah, who wrote the two lines that begin this blog, I’m remembering that nothing is wasted, the moments that make up our lives meant to be—all of us, once caterpillars, slowly inching our way through the days and at some point, yearning to reach up and over the disempowering parts of our stories and beliefs—in order to see the hilly path we’ve carved continuing to lead us toward something not yet seen.
That something is a perspective unique to you. Because somehow, somewhere, with a large dose of grace thrown in, you grew tired of climbing, tumbling and feeling bruised, broken, and blind. Despite it all—and because of it all—deciding to fly, and become whole.
Scilly Isle beach treasures mobile by Naomi and Sue Hannam