I tend to believe (or maybe want to believe) that something greater than me delivers little messages to me all the time. Messages of warning, encouragement, anything really. It’s magical thinking and it makes me happy.
For the past week or so, I’ve felt my subconscious battling with something. I still have no idea what’s going on except that I’ve been moody and a bit more depressed than normal.
But, I’ve also noted seeing a string of butterflies in unusual places and during unusual times during this period. You might think, What’s the big deal? It’s summer and butterflies are out and about. I won’t argue with that except that I’ve hardly seen them on a regular basis since childhood.
When my brain finally juxtaposed the subconscious battles with the string of butterfly sightings, I considered the possibility that my hidden battles, whatever they are, are necessary and good news. Before a butterfly can flutter its way through the dance of life, it has to fight its way out of the cocoon. There are no shortcuts. To lessen the struggle, is to maim the butterfly.
I’d like to think that these dark periods of internal struggle, when I crawl into my own sort of cocoon, are growing pains that become birthing pains in order for something more beautiful to be born.