Warm, taken care of, we then enter this world kicking, screaming and probably crying. It’s a realisation, tough, sudden, but thankfully something that we do not actively remember. But, saying that, it’s there, every second, that experience, buried under layer upon layer of learning. We’ve escaped from that chrysalis, of sorts, that kept us safe, warm and protected.
We can barely crawl, listening, watching, experiencing how life should be, could be, would probably be, through the actions and commitments of every single person in front of our very ears and eyes. We’re that sponge, the never ending, constantly gathering, mind of knowledge. We learn kisses, to smile, to throw tantrums and especially, to laugh. Each smile brings warmth from others, each soft tender baby kiss ensures that we’re cared for, loved and adored. We’re that pure form that’s getting ready to move forward, to stand.
We’d crawled, discovered, embraced people with care and emotion as that’s what we've understood to be acceptable. We’re still laughing, we’re still smiling, while barely able to hold a spoon to our own lips. We’ll get there, eventually, soon, maybe, after speaking the very first words that, again, will bring amazement from all around.
We’re the very centre of attention, at times, asking, or screaming, to be noticed. We’re emotion, we’re love, we’re the need to be accepted and held. No matter what, or how we learn, we cannot escape that gnawing feeling at the back of our animalistic tendencies to be held. We've lived that warmth for months on end so how dare the world, we, ignore that need. Hugs, more kisses, the soon to be said ‘I love you’.
We've grown, realised our own nature, realised that we exist, that important self-realisation moment that many never notice. We’re alive, a beating heart, ready to move forward with so much gusto. You couldn't stop us if anyone even tried. We’re the caterpillar traversing towards the metamorphosis stage of life. We’re young, we’re here, now, willing, certainly able, with so much youth that it defies the logic of the older generations.
Then, right then, you start to become the butterfly. You still have the support, that you proclaim to no longer need, from loved ones and family. You’re viable, the moment ‘is’ you. You’re beautiful, beautiful wings spreading towards the sky, outwards, glistening with pure radiance and colour. You, me, I, us, everyone, are all beautiful beyond belief. You start to fly, with the years of knowledge behind you and… .
You crash. You fall. You fail. All that knowledge, the assurance, the thoughts of becoming something beautiful, something more, the realisation that you’re all ‘already’ beautiful, existing somewhere in the background of the people surrounding you. The nurture, the very nature, of all things.
The spirit within you, the very person that you've become, shouldn't stop, as you’re the papillon. You are the butterfly! Made to walk this world with the feet beneath your very words, as well as actions, but those words, those actions, can truly make you fly. Endure, become, never let your hope for a clear blue sky vanish from within your very eyes. You've felt the freedom, as a child, you've imagined, you've escaped a thousand make believe moments. You’re ready, you've always been ready, to fly. Just believe.
You’re a butterfly. Spread your wings. Show me your colours, let me hear your words and, more importantly, help me to feel your actions. I believe in you, will hold your hand until you decide to let go, until that moment you become what you’ve always meant to be. A beautiful butterfly.