Midlife Metamorphosis

Does the caterpillar transforming into a butterfly feel pain?

This question intrigues me because when a caterpillar forms a chrysalis, its body dissolves into a liquid and specialized cells called, get this, imaginal discs construct the butterfly’s body. Does the dissolving hurt?

  • This past year:I separated from my husband in September. For months afterwards, I felt like I was falling apart.

  • I moved out of my lovingly created home and away from the garden that was a nourishing oasis for me. I didn’t know where home was anymore.

  • My husband and I split up our dogs and I left behind my beloved companion Sage. I felt intense grief letting go of the wiggly, soulful being that I had cared for and adored since she was 8 weeks old.

  • After 15 years of living in a stone cottage nestled in a forest in Connecticut, I moved to Boston. My already tender nervous system felt shattered by all the noise, pavement, and traffic.

  • In November, I was in excruciating pain and had a three day hospital stay as doctors tried to figure out what was causing the pain. The pain was physical as well as emotional and spiritual.

  • I sent Cosmo back to Connecticut to live with my husband while I recovered from a torn labrum. I was heartbroken wondering: would I be able to walk again? would I lose both my dogs?

Community carried me through.

Somehow I made it through the past year as I dissolved into goo. Just as specialized cells create the butterfly’s body from a liquid, my beloved family and friends lovingly formed the imaginal discs that helped me construct my new bodymind.

  • my sister Sarah sent me hundreds of hilarious, heart-warming, and uplifting IG reels; she gave me such wise advice (which I knew she had gleaned after surviving her own divorce 10 years ago) and offered me compassion and acceptance when I was immersed in self-doubt, self-recrimination, and guilt;

  • my buddy LC took me to a 5-course brunch at the Boston Public Library (it’s a thing), window shopping on Newbury Street, and inspired what felt like my first laugh in 3 months;

  • my Tucson buddy hosted me for 10 days over Christmas, we had silly fun creating a kitten-proof Christmas tree, and orchestrated an Italian-American Christmas feast that only other paisans can understand;

  • my biggest client graciously didn’t mention mistakes that I made because I was so often preoccupied;

  • my dear Mama opened her home to me and my big lug of a dog; made sure that the back yard was securely fenced so aforementioned big lug would have a safe place to play; emptied multiple cupboards in her kitchen for my extensive collection of glass storage containers, spices, teas, medicinal oils and herbs; and fed me almond croissants, lemon squares, and cookies until I actually felt the sweetness of life again;

  • my skilled and intuitive acupuncturist helped me heal that torn labrum;

  • my therapist, who practices Internal Family Systems and Non-violent Communication, somehow managed to be a stalwart friend and helped me rebuild my shattered sense of self;

  • my buddy Bennie served up the kind of legal advice that also felt like therapy; and packed a bag with two days’ notice, drove to Maine, and held space while I reclaimed a huge chunk of my personal power through a psychedelic medicine journey

The whispers of change

Sixteen months prior to my dissolving-into-goo era, I traveled to a traditional Āyurveda healing village in southern India. It wasn’t planned as a turning point—I was there to support a colleague while he was leading a retreat.

In that vibrant place, greeting the dawn with chanting, experiencing practices that have been alive for thousands of years, held by a community of vision, purpose, and mutual support, I began to remember who I am: an indissolvable being that exists beyond time and space. And, the experience kicked off the chrysalis phase as I began to realize that my inner world and outer world didn't match and some serious reconstruction would need to happen.

How about you: Are you feeling the call of the chrysalis? Have you already dissolved and reformed again? What or who are your imaginal discs helping you build the butterfly of your being?

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My curls are a metaphor.