I am a caterpillar growing too big for my skin. I feed on the world around me, moving slowly and deliberately, consuming more than I can hold, molting to make room for my body, ever expanding and increasing. I weave a tapestry around my soul, burying myself deep inside, withdrawing, but never shutting down the essence of who I am. I am a butterfly who changes the world. I draw sweet nectar from the flowers of life, fueling my soul and allowing my divine spirit to radiate the vibrant colors and patterns of joy. I pollinate love and light and truth, scattering the seeds in all directions, never knowing where they may land and what may grow in their presence. I am earthy and flighty, camouflaged and colorful, transformed and transforming, a never-ending transformation of myself.
This email will be my last poetry email of 2020 as I take a timeout for my own reflection on the past year. I've already started—five minutes here, twenty minutes there—looking through photos, calendars, journals, and threads of conversation over email and text from the past year. I do this every December in some form or another, and every year I'm surprised at how many moments I'd forgotten. I make lists: books I've read, movies I've watched, connections with people (and animals), trips taken (or not), discoveries, moments of courage, moments of weakness, milestones, obstacles, completions, endings, and everything in between.
Little by little, I notice threads and themes emerging, the subtle and not-so-subtle ways I might be changing. I celebrate the path I've been on and steep myself in the sadness of what feels like it's been left by the wayside. As I recognize what I'm learning about life, I see more and more that so much of it is a mystery and that letting go is a part of becoming who I am. Taking this time to pause creates the space for me to compost the year, integrate my experience, and allow new ideas and dreams to percolate. I call it my cocooning time.