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celtic-butterfly-tattooIn the cocoon, everything the caterpillar was, dies.  It turns to mush, it’s DNA is rewritten, it becomes something unrecognisable to what it was before.  When the transformation is complete, to strengthen its new wings for flight, there is another process – release from the cocoon.

The change seems sudden and dramatic to the outside observer, watching the butterfly begin life on the wind. But it has been a long haul.

Transitions take time for me – there have been very few sudden changes in my life.  I sense myself on the verge of significant change, now.  A sweeping one, I hope, that encompasses both my internal and external worlds.

Maybe it is wishful thinking.  Maybe it is birthday melancholy – I will be 42 soon, the age when Columba founded Iona, and Hildegard von Bingen was baptised in holy fire and began to write her visions and revelations and music. Perhaps I just long for significance.  Certainly I long for transformation.

How does the new butterfly know it is time to emerge?

There is the passive time of being undone in the cocoon, unmade and re-formed, then the aggressive act of untangling from the shroud of the caterpillar.  The timing for this would seem to be important.

O Creator, work in me my transformation; give strength and guide me to outwork my own part in it.

 

 

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