The Butterfly

I looked into my mirror this morning and to my dismay saw the caterpillar once again.  Where did the beautiful butterfly go? 

Hadn't I struggled enough? 

I had thought once a butterfly always a butterfly.  I realized I had never fully attained the grandeur to fly but I had escaped the tight bindings of the cocoon and had stood tall and free displaying my neon colored wings.

Now in the mirror the truth looked back at me.  Who did I think I was anyway?

Wait, oh my!  Looking closer I see the butterfly is still there - not the old brown fuzzy caterpillar.  Her lovely wings are wrapped tight around her body concealing her beauty from the world.  With a little effort I am able to coax her to relax and unfurl her wings, those brightly colored wings I had so admired.

To my chagrin I see small rips and tears in the delicate tissue wings.  Then I realize with shame, the tattered wings are all due to my folly.  I had been brazen and flown too close to sharp deadly obstacles before I had fully become a master of flying.  Then all tattered and torn I had retreated once again into the safe haven of the cocoon.

Let's take a step out of my fantasy world and see what really is going on here.  Isn't this what most of us do?  We work hard for that promotion, that new diet and exercise plan, our new social status, then we take one missed step and we retreat.  We surrender to the familiar where we feel safe.  One step forward, two steps back.  

I was doing well on my diet plan and then I got caught up in day to day living and went back to eating convenience foods.  This morning I stepped on the scales and found I had gained back most of the weight I had lost.  Then looking in the mirror brushing my teeth I felt fat, old and ugly.  I had gone to bed really tired last night and hadn't removed my makeup so my eyes were smudged with black mascara and my hair looked worse than Dorothy's friend the scarecrow's hair looked.  No amount of brushing could tame that mess.

I admit, I am a shy butterfly afraid of what the world will think of me.  I run back to the shelter of my cocoon whenever my imagination creates large ugly monsters that I myself fear.  To be a butterfly always I must work at it.  I must cultivate the qualities to change my life.  That is a full time job, not part time as I had assumed.

I know I am a butterfly.  I was meant to be a butterfly.  I was meant to fly and fly I will!