Butterfly comes to teach that becoming is messy not beautiful itself, it is transforming into beauty. Sometimes becoming looks like hunger like leaves chewed down to their bare skeletal veins, like inching forward unaware of the sky. There is a time to crawl. A time to consume lessons, to make a meal of every hard thing that you find in front of you. There is a time for retreat, close the door. draw the curtains on a world that asks, “are you dead inside there?”

There is a time to tuck yourself away, to unplug from the noise, to let the world spin while you quietly spin soft silk around your dissolving self. Quiet is not empty. Quiet is a workshop. Quiet is the darkroom where your soul develops old photographs. There is a time to break open. a time to launch. to step out of the small name you gave yourself in the quiet dark. Do not mistake distance as failure to love. Do not eschew your need for people Flowers need visitors. Love is a butterfly resting on the edge of your open palm. Do not close your fist on it. Do not demand it stay. Do not crush love's colors trying to make certainty out of something tender and free by design. Butterfly does not seek permission from the wind. Butterfly does not wait until it finally understands the whole sky. Butterfly rises because transformation has made real the difference between prison and infinite grace.