Sometimes in life we’re flying and flourishing and flowing and skydiving through magnificently sunburst skies. And fuck, that feels so amazing. So right, so good, so pure, so effortless and beautiful and divine and free …
… like a honey-soaked dream.
And then there are those other times. Those times when things feel dark and stagnant and futile. When it all feels so insanely lost.
Those times when nothing feels quite right. When there is no light, when there are no doors, no direction, no light in the window, no torch blazing the way. No emotion to guide you, no heart to lead you, no voice to tell you what to do.
There’s nothing but a hollow emptiness. Nothing but a slow boiling despair and a rising fear that you might be lost forever. That you might always be hollow.
But you’re not lost.
And you’re not hollow.
You’re swelling with magic right now. You’re full with the promise of unseen universes and undreamed dreams. There’s a delicious unfurling within in you, growing, swelling, expanding, even if you don’t know it. Even if you don’t feel it.
Even if you’re feeling inextricably wrapped in the darkness, some parts of you will always be swaying and dancing with fingers of light that you just don’t see yet.
You don’t know it, but you’re okay. This is one of those moments you look back on and wish you could tell that younger self of yours that you’re going to fly one day. That right now you are actually blossoming with exquisite fullness, wild beyond your deepest imaginings.
You are about to become the butterfly.
You just don’t know it yet.
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