“You can’t ask a butterfly to scrunch herself back into her chrysalis or to go back to being a caterpillar just because you’d gotten used to her like that. What’s worse is when you try to get her to go back because you fear the freedom given to her by her wings.” ~SSHenry
There are some experiences; some moments in time; that change your life forever. Perhaps for you it was a major life event such as the birth of a child, the death of a loved one or a close call that shook you right down to the foundations of your soul. Or maybe it wasn’t a large event at all. Maybe it was something much more subtle such as a kind word spoken when it was most needed; the touch of a lover’s hand or a breeze that not only ruffled your hair but stirred up something deep down inside you that simply could not be contained.
I’ve had many life-changing moments. All of us have. Sometimes it seems as if these moments come so thick and fast that they threaten to overwhelm you. At other times you feel as if your entire life is on “pause” and all of the moments having stepped out for a drink or something. At some points in your life it is as if the moments of realization and wonder and change are so few and far between that you’ve pretty much forgotten what they are like before the next one begins to play itself out and have to remind yourself what exactly it is that you are dealing with each time you encounter it.
My most recent (and not surprisingly most profound) life-changing moment to date came the moment that I walked into my house after a two month absence and realized that there was no way that I could go back to being the person I had been when I walked out that door eight weeks earlier.
The details as to why I ended up gone for two months (illness in the family) or what happened while I was gone are not important. Yes, I had some interesting experiences while I was off on my own for two months dealing with unexpected issues and meeting people I might not otherwise have encountered. But what really matters is that for two solid months I was detached from the life that I had been living up until that moment.
For two months I was separated from all of the small niggling everyday details that we label “reality” and which demand our attention and catch us up in layers upon layers of drama and expectation; layers that we gladly pull around us like a cloak and call “life.”
For two months I was free of those layers. Getting rid of them was not pleasant. They got stripped away from me rudely leaving me rather raw and feeling as if I had been flayed alive and then washed down in salt water and I felt as if was being completely inundated with issues and problems and responsibilities that I really didn’t want to deal with at that moment in time.
But the point is that for two months I was not just a wife. Nor was I just a mother or a daughter taking care of her own mother. For two solid months – I was me.
I was not free of obligations or responsibilities (caring for a sick family member brings with it its own responsibilities and expectations). But for two months I was free of the obligations and responsibilities and expectations in which I had wrapped myself up for the last 22 years; those responsibilities and expectations that come from being a wife and mother and homemaker extraordinaire.
For two solid months was completely and totally myself.
It dawned on me as I was driving home, to wonder just how I would ever be able to go back to living my old life. But when I pulled into the driveway and saw my house for the first time in eight weeks; when I walked through the door and took one look around me, I knew that it was patently impossible.
I can’t go back to the way things were; ever. The person who lived that life is gone.
I could feel the shell of her; that old me; waiting for me around every corner. “Come on” she whispered, holding out the old life as if it were a soft but comfortable pair of sweat pants. “Don’t you want to slip back into this? This is where you are comfortable. This is where you belong. Life doesn’t get any better than this.”
“Oh yes it does sweetheart” I whispered back “you have NO idea!”
You see, the old life has a lot going for it. There are many things that I would like to keep and incorporate into my new reality, but not if it means having to go back to being the person that I was. The person I have become cannot possibly fit into that old skin. Not without giving up who and what I have become.
It would be like asking a butterfly to scrunch back into her chrysalis. Or better yet, to turn back time and become a caterpillar again. It’s not going to happen. I could pretend, but I’m tired of pretending.
I am simply going to be myself.
My whole self.
I will start again. Here. Now. As myself. If that is not enough, or more likely if that is too much, then so be it. I have wings now baby. There’s no reason for me to go back to crawling when I can fly.