Stephanie Swanson Coaching

By Stephanie Swanson, March 2023

Deep the the layers of the cocoon, the caterpillar settles into silence, awaiting a glorious future she cannot see.

She spun this cocoon around herself, thread by thread, watching the sky disappear, darkness enveloping her.

Did she know that beauty comes through ashes? If only she could let go, let all she knew to fade away, she could fly!

I once lived a big life. Travel, parties, performances, adventures. Laughing, building, creating something worth admiring. Dig in! Solve the problem, fix the issues, rebuild what is broken, build something new – create a life to celebrate!

The caterpillar climbed slowly along the branches, compelled, irresistibly drawn, to this very spot, called to let go of what she once knew, to become something beautiful.

Oh, this irresistible drive we know all too well. Beauty! The relentless call of the workout, the selfie, the filter, the diet. On sale for $24.99, the milkweed mask promises to reduce fine lines and wrinkles.

But in the dark night of the soul, all this fades away. Metamorphosis awaits, if only we could let go.

What makes a butterfly beautiful? Is it the miracle of transformation? The lightness of her wings, the gracefulness of flight, the spreading of life from one flower to another?

An old man slowly walks with his cane to a well-worn seat, head and back hunched, in prayer or perhaps pain, or reasonably both, inescapably intertwined. The cane rests in the slightest worn divot in the pew, marking a life of faithfulness, of rhythm, of quiet serenity. A beautiful soul.

“Consider the lilies of the field…” I hear, a soft whisper inside my head.

If only we heard the whispers on the wind, wisdom hidden in the stillness of the soul. It implores us, softly, to understand. “Don’t buy it! The milkweed is life to her, yet poison to us. Seek first…” The words carried away almost imperceptibly on the breeze.

For what is beauty? Strength and grace, joy and pain, justice and peace, inextricably intertwined, balanced in unity and acceptance.

I am compelled, irresistibly drawn, to this very spot, called to let go of what I once knew. Called to a future still yet unknown. Sitting in my cocoon of blankets on the couch, watching all I have known fade around me, I am left to wonder….

What makes a life beautiful?

My daughter climbs under the blankets with me, kisses my check, burrows her head into my chest.

If only I could let go, do I know that I can fly?