Allegedly this is the larval stage. In my humble opinion, it sucks! And I don’t even like it at all.

There is a lot of pressure to perform tasks–crazy things like find cheaper housing to keep the kids in the same school district, or find a job that can cover costs and hopefully build up something to start over again. Other people are facing this and dealing with it. Other people are living and breathing day by day and hoping that they can keep all the balls in the air. And while that provides a small bit of comfort–actually a HUGE chunk of comfort–it doesn’t solve any of my problems. I want them to be fixed right now. Dammit.

My paid for friend, MAY SHE LIVE FOREVER, points out that I am in a volcanic life transition and my identity has nothing close to settled into what it will be. The expectation that I would, then, be able to put out a resume and say be employed in a life-affirming perfect calling within, say, a week is somewhat…illusory, is the word she used. She didn’t say delusional, and I choose to take courage from that. All I did was make a certain point and ask a certain question: since I am living through divorce, financial upheaval, business change, status loss, control loss, job search, parenting guilt, professional entanglement with my ex… I think I would like to pursue something that has to do with change management and conflict resolution. Do you know any good schools, and do you think I would be successful there? Seemed simple enough. Affirm my plan, Paid for Friend. That’s all I’m asking.

“You are asking me to wave my magic wand, again. Aren’t you?” she laughs. Ordinarily, I love to make people laugh, but this one is a little too close to home for me to find much brevity in it. She picks up on a panicked drive to find definitive answers and encourages me to steep in the larval more before putting so much pressure on myself to know what I will be when I grow up. Some bullshit about ‘not ideal but good enough’ and ‘temporary’ and ‘not long term’.

I am asking for the authorized, holy water sprinkled, fairy dusted plan. I pay this woman good money. And she laughs and tells me to stay larval. The larval stage feels constricting and icky. It is tight and dark and larva don’t have arms to complete tasks. They can’t pay rent when they’re stuck in that silly little cocoon. I’m not saying the idea of crawling into my bed and burrowing in doesn’t hold a certain appeal, but I WANT IT FIXED NOW!!

Someday, I suspect I will look back at this period joyfully, fondly, and with wings. Wings accompanied by sage wisdom and great fortitude. Speckles of eternal perspective and a rock core of exhortation for fellow butterflies to be. When I visualize that moment from where I am today, I see a tender little white cocoon. I honor it and wish I had a way to protect it. I look at it a little more closely, and out of the top of it is sticking my middle finger.