On my way to see My Love the other day I noticed a group of girls, about eight or nine years old....skipping alongside a reservoir, picture perfect really--- I loved that they had time to skip, I remembered having that time, what it was like....to be joyful enough to just skip, unprovoked.
….these little ones, skipping, were holding a net. Probably for bugs, or fish....or maybe, for butterflies. I was charmed by that idea.
The idea that when you leave your house, you will encounter a butterfly and that butterfly will willingly, settle into your net, long enough for you to marvel at it.
I loved the optimism of it all...... capturing a butterfly, with no door, no motivation or expectation- no way to cage it in, just for a moment, to marvel and let it go.
Sort of what we do in life right? Look for something delicate and miraculous, something so fancy and unique and utterly beautiful, so we can hold it in our hands, open palms and just hope that it stays.
It’s been interesting. This change.
I heard my inner voice fighting without my rationale, “But I still love him” and gently, like a a schoolteacher placing her hands on top of your tiny ones, fumbling and frustrated trying to your laces, my Other Voice said, “Then, love him.”
Then, love him.
...so that’s what I did. Just, loved him--with no real place of belonging for that love to land. Just, Open heart, flexible mind...sort of love.
I spend so much time PLOTTING life-- writing lists, planning the next step, plotting “the way.” Almost, like I’m trying to find a loophole so that everything can go the way that I planned it, instead of they way fate plans it. Dodging under beams and ladders. Starting with a running leap. Anything to just make sure there’s no mishaps.
...then you realize, life happens to you. it HAPPENS to you, whether you’re plotting, dodging, scheming, or not. It just. happens.
Let it... (Ohhh, HA! so that’s surrender, gotcha Lesson.)
Then, the way the new pieces fit into your life will feel less clunky, less awkward---they’ll settle into their nooks....in due time, of course. You’ll walk around holding all this New in your hands, thinking, “what in the fuck do I do with this? I don’t know where to put this.” Until, eventually...you’ll decide to replace certain pieces and it’ll feel like surgery, it’ll feel like sticky, reluctant excavation...but you’ll do it anyway. To free up your hands.
Life is shifting in the most bittersweet and beautiful way...... and all I can hope, is that I’m here palms up, open, ready for my Butterfly to land. That’s what I wish for you.
ARE YOUR PALMS OPEN OR CLOSED??