Since returning to suburbia, my neighborhood walks have been steeped in even deeper wonder than last fall.
Can I measure it? No. But I feel it.
I’ve watched robins mid-shit. Investigated the undersides of leaves and said “Hello!” to mosquitoes hanging out. Swatted away lantern flies while remaining in wonder of their butt-to-butt courtship ritual.
But what’s stuck with me the most is when I notice a little blob of brown or black squirming along. I squat down, and to my delight, I see a caterpillar. To my horror, it’s being hunted by ants.
And I watch.
That may sound sadistic. How could I not save the caterpillar — swoop in as its white knight?
If I did, I wouldn’t merely be a knight — I’d be playing God. Favoring the sorta cute yet terrifying caterpillar over the pesky ant trying to put food on the table for its Queen.
Instead, I’m here. Now. Not choosing life or death. Simply allowing the unfolding.
//
When my healing journey began, I must have had a breakthrough every other day. Seemingly once-disjointed memories from the past began connecting to the present. In the process, I realized the “life” I’d been living was a projection of painful imprints unhealed in my heart.
An illusion.
With each thread I pulled, the clearer life felt — things finally started to make sense! I could experience a knot of anxiety before opening my crush’s “late” text, and trace its origin back to a memory, a feeling from childhood. This newfound awareness brought understanding. Peace. One I didn’t know could exist within the turmoil of my inner world.
I’d discovered a secret in plain sight. One I knew could transform lives as it did mine. And as Prometheus shared the secret of fire, I shared the “secret” of attachment theory.
I found ways to sneak it into conversation. Played psychotherapist as I silently analyzed my friends’ tendencies, bucketing them into “anxious”, “avoidant”, or “fearful.” I’d listen to their relationship woes and explain what was clearly playing out in their dynamic.
“You’re both replaying a conditioned pattern of behavior from childhood and projecting onto each other the parent you sought love from but didn’t receive.”
I didn’t say exactly that, but you get the point. And as if that didn’t make me enough of an ass, I’d give unsolicited advice. To my surprise and annoyance, nothing happened. I’d given them fire, the secret to burning away their attachments and attaining peace, but they didn’t take it.
Why bring up pain if you don’t want the cure?
//
The mirage of inner work is that at the beginning, you’ll likely have a lot of breakthroughs. As you’d expect the first time you flip open the story of who you are and read. After a few chapters, it’s easy to delude yourself into believing “This is it.” Dust your hands off after a long day’s work — all healed!
But pulling one thread only unravels another, and another, and another.
I realized with my friends, I’d once again been projecting the past onto the present. Replicating a pattern of behavior I’d inherited from my parents — viewing people as problems needing fixing.
When I didn’t do “well” (Asian standards of course) on a test or when I eventually didn’t get into an Ivy League school, the message I received was “What didn’t you do?” and “How can we fix this?” Never “How are you feeling right now?” or “What can I do to support you?”
Never allowed my experience — my truth.
These types of experiences, as harmless as they may seem, condition you to view yourself as the reason why you’re disconnected from Mom and Dad, from yourself, from love. That there’s something imperfect about you that if you could just improve, everything would be okay.
Cue the all-too-necessary era of self-improvement books and podcasts…
But within self-improvement is the implication, the assumption that as you are, you’re broken. Incomplete. In need of something or someone outside of yourself.
In I strode, the white knight, God, here to liberate my friends from themselves.
I cringe reflecting on my actions, but our stories would be quite vanilla without the cringe. Looking beyond the doing, I see myself clearly and understand “where” I acted from. Where Prometheus acted from.
Being love.
//
How I saw others only shifted as I sat with myself differently. Not treating myself as a problem to be solved. Rather, as a work of art in progress. Because regardless of your taste, “art” conjures up qualities of patience and care. Reverence and beauty. The layers, the imperfections, are what make art beautiful. Human.
As with art, there’s no predicting how a human’s transformation will unfold. While I wish I could lay out all the precise steps I took or how I catalyzed the process, I can’t. There was no knowing on my part. No switch I intentionally flicked on to illuminate the shadows of my unconscious. It just happened.
Unfolded.
When you reflect on your life and all the transformation you’ve experienced, did it ever play out according to a plan? When you wanted it? How you wanted it?
No.
Instead, it happened of its own volition and momentum. A greater intelligence at play knew what you needed for transformation and when you’d be ready to receive it. Presenting the exact experiences you needed to wake up to your potential.
During transformation, especially painful moments, life looks like an utter shit show. But when you zoom out, flip through previous chapters, you realize imperfection was perfection all along.
When you embody this knowing, it radiates outwardly in how you are with others. As painful as it can be to watch your loved ones suffer, you know it needs to happen. That all you can do is watch and be here. Now. No matter how sadistic it may sound.
They need to experience pain and adversity to spark their own transformation. A power that isn’t yours to wield.
Perhaps that’s why Prometheus was tortured for eternity. Because he sought to “help” humans, he unintentionally placed himself as a God — above them. But no one wants help, no one wants to feel like a charity case. Rather, they want to feel empowered. Connected. Human.
If I’d “saved” the caterpillar as I once tried to save my friends, I would’ve disempowered it. Stripped away its opportunity to fend off the ant and realize its innate power. An experience that would’ve signaled “there’s more beauty waiting for you” and sparked its metamorphosis.
You don’t have to do a thing. Don’t have to give anyone any secrets. Instead, be as you are — a being of love. Your presence creates a healing space that serves as the cocoon for transformation. A membrane of gentle support and trust. Knowing that they, like you, have the innate wisdom and strength to unfold into their potential. It’s in their being.
Your being.
Like Ouroboros (a serpent or dragon biting its own tail), we will inevitably experience some sort of pain in our life journeys and feel like our worlds is falling down into complete destruction. But, what’s the hidden treasure in pain is that this period of time is when you can regenerate and return the magic back to yourself. In conclusion, it is letting the unity of all things (both materialistic and spiritually) come together as one.
Love this