Sometimes there is just nothing to say. Shocking coming from me, since most people who know me will say that I’m rarely at a loss for words. But this week, it’s mostly true.
I’ve reached saturation. Like a salt solution that is so full, any addition would fall to the bottom unused. This last year and last several months has been a lot to take in. Life is in constant flux and the only constant is change. Not a week goes by that I don’t have to rearrange my schedule in order to accommodate something unexpected that pops up. Even in a normal climate, adjusting and remaining resilient amidst life’s ebb and flow can be difficult. But our surroundings are anything but normal these days with the added stress and uncertainty that has comes with COVID. The impact the pandemic has had is so broad and continually evolving that our ability to cope and thrive is challenged like never before. Especially in recent months, my capacity for dealing with life’s complexity is reduced. The need for pause, space, and breathing room seems fundamental. When you are so full, it is enough to just hold it all.
I feel like the hungry caterpillar who has eaten, and eaten, and eaten and now full turns the energy it has taken in into something beautiful. It lays wrapped up, warm, quiet, and protected, waiting for what is to come. Sensing that it is on the edge of something just beyond its reach. Not know exactly what, but familiar just the same. Perceiving that something bigger lies dormant within, waiting for the perfect convergence of events to make it whole. Intuition and instinct lead its next steps as it just trusts and allows. Surrendering to the process. Directing its energy inside as metamorphosis occurs. Seclusion, time, and divine intelligence, the magic ingredients of transformation.
The wisest thing I can do and say this week is nothing at all.