There are times when we are so adamant on changing the circumstances that we’re in that we force ourselves to do something that might make our lives a little better than it is now, but it isn’t something that we truly want to do. The one thing that is most certain from what we have heard about people who are bringing about a significant change in their life, success wise, like with all the money they make, is that they do things that they, deep in their hearts, want to do. The same things that you know you want to, but will always be afraid to do. And while you sit there contemplating, wondering, life outside goes on around you. You’ve been so afraid of failing at the thing you truly wish to do that that you have forced yourself into loving something that you were sold, saying that it is bound to get life better for you, the bittersweet pills shoved down your throat. And then to cover it all there is the imputation, the blame, on the circumstances, what you were born with, the choices that have already been made, the lies already lived, and the lies being lived.
It’s time you start accepting that life as it is, isn’t so bad, it’s alright, it’s like a ship, rolling and pitching, or something on those lines. Do what you are designed to do, get there somehow, take that leap of faith, discover your belief or whatever pretty one-liner you think you’ll have to tell yourself that’ll make you do it.
It really is just a dream, a vacuum, a scheme, that’ll keep you thinking you’re free while all you are is a prisoner of the beliefs that you’ve been made to believe.
The Caterpillar eats only leaf; he eats while he watches the butterflies all around him, how beautiful they look with the patterns and the colors they adorn. He has some favorites too, the ones he would emulate. He wants to get there, rather needs to get there, and he somehow vaguely, as if by the rule of nature,knows that those butterflies were nothing but caterpillars like him, they were tiny and crawling and they ate leaf too.
So he wishes to get there, he wishes to get there so bad, . And by some another rule of nature, he builds a cocoon around him to transform into a butterfly, he’s inside the cocoon, probably in his deepest sleep, wondering in some dream, what it would be to be like a butterfly, attracting as if by a force of nature his wings, his own beauty that he was destined to adorn, and just like that, he’s all set to fly, all set to be the favorite of some caterpillars. But well it is harder than anybody said it would be, so he spends some time struggling. And eventually, through the struggle, building the strength to break free, and forgetting the tears he’s cried through the turmoil, he finally breaks free, he’s out there flying with the other butterflies, certainly completing his life circle,being what he was destined to be. Maybe he’ll find someone and make some caterpillars, or perhaps fly solo.
He looks back to where he came from, he sees the caterpillars eating leaf, all of them munching around, but he doesn’t eat leaf no more, he doesn’t eat at all, he drinks, the exquisite nectar, something he didn’t even know existed.
I see caterpillars and butterflies, the cocoons are particularly hard to find. I imagine there’d be some caterpillars building there cocoon, some halfway through it, some working on their transformation, some caterpillars still wondering if cocoon is such a good idea, some planning to eat leaf till the end of their days. Some wiser, some not so much.
My heart goes to the ones that have transformed into butterflies inside the cocoon but somehow can’t find the strength or somehow the belief that they are designed to break free, slowly forgetting that there is a world outside, what they were supposed to be, eventually giving up, and living that dream that they’re in, and just like that they die in there cocoon, certainly leaving the purpose unfulfilled.
There is nothing sadder than that, well it isn’t sad, it’s just pitiful, I wish I could make them believe that it is doable, it has always been. Something that really is sad, is the caterpillar that’ll die eating leaf, probably telling other caterpillars the same thing that he was told, convincing them that butterflies are something else, and they were born that way, and stuff; lying his way to his solace.
The only thing common to all of them is that no matter where they are in their lives, they will all die, even the butterflies. But well, they did what they had to do, became what they were supposed to become, and they were so pleasant and inspiring to look at, weren’t they?
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