I guess the caterpillar doesn’t spend much time pondering its future, as it munches leaves and grows fat. I doubt that it has a crisis over entering the cocoon, even though it means death. The caterpillar must die. Its entire structure must be demolished to make way for the birth of something new and wonderful. This is life, for a caterpillar.
Put a brain in there, and you’re asking for trouble. Questions about change, and choice, and fate, and biology, and meaning. Isn’t there more to life than this? Well, no. This is life, life is change, and we approach it, mostly, with anxious introspection.
Thing is, the caterpillar is guaranteed to become something better. I’m looking at the possibility of a major change and I can’t say it will definitely be better. It is a scary prospect, and I have more than just myself to consider.
They say that when the pain of staying with the old is more than the the pain of starting new, then we change. The status quo, the place you are, can be a complicated mix of good, bad, and familiar. We stick with what is known. We learn to love the pain and fear moving on. Yes, it hurts, but we know exactly how much. We never count the pain of denying the person we could be, the life we could have. Instead we have lead in our shoes, a hole in our hearts, a nagging discomfort uneasily drowned in alcohol, TV, shopping, general busyness.
This pain of lost potential is growing in my chest and will not easily be silenced.
The butterfly emerges with its lovely wings complete. It does not need to take a leap of faith, and grow wings on the way. I continue to ponder my next move, to see if my brain can find a way around my dilemma. Revolution or evolution?