emptycanvas42-blog
Confessions From an Empty Canvas
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The Little Catipillar
Once, there was a lowly little catipillar.
She dreamed of one day turning into a butterfly so she could be loved the way she always imagined.
You see, this little catipillar watched all her friends turn into butterflies before her, and in turn, no butterfly would look her way.
Until one day, when she seemed to lose all hope; a butterfly came across her path.
He looked at her for a moment, and then asked, "My dear catipillar, why do you look so sad?"
She gazed back at him, unsure if this was a form of trickery, but decided to answer truthfully regardless.
"I fear I may never turn into a butterfly, and I will never be beautiful."
The unfamiliar butterfly looked absolutely shocked by this remark, "but my dear catipillar, you already are beautiful!"
The catipillar could not understand, "but how can I be beautiful, if everyone has become a butterfly, and I have not?"
"This is something I cannot answer for you. I hope you will find your answer soon." And with that, the butterfly flew away.
The catipillar pondered this for days.
She looked in the reflection off the water, still doubting her beauty.
Then she came across a path block by three beautiful butterflies. She looked at them with admiration, while they looked back with disgust. Suddenly, she recognized these butterflies. They used to play when they were all little catipillars.
"My friends!" She said with hope.
They snickered between one another, until one came foward, "you are not our friend. You're just a catipillar!"
"But we all used to play when we were little! We laughed, cried, and adventured together!"
"But you are not a butterfly, you are not beautiful."
She looked upon them once again, seeing them for how they were. They were not beautiful at all. There wings were plain, and their smiles crooked with evil.
She said no more to them and kept on her way.
"I may not yet be a butterfly, but that doesn't make me ugly. I love the polka dots on my back, and the lines they connect to. I love my little feet, and the way I crawl. I love the kidness that I offer everyone, and the intelligence I bring to my village. Maybe I don't have to be a butterfly to be beautiful after all."
The little catipillar began to love herself, and see the value in her, even if most others could not see it.
That night, she dreamt of beautiful lights, ones she had never seen before.
When she awoke, it was dark, except a tiny ray of light seeping through her small room. She pushed her way through it, and kept pushing until the bright of day overwhelmed her senses. When she adjusted to the light, she found herself looking at the most beautiful wings she had laid her eyes on. Furthermore, she found they were attatched to her! She had transformed into a butterfly after all!
She flew higher than she had ever been before, absolute joy filling her heart.
Suddenly, she found herself infront of the beautiful butterfly that had told her she was beautiful when she was a catipillar.
He looked at her with absolute glee. "My friend, you are just as beautiful as when I first laid my eyes upon you!"
She smiled at him, and then to herself, knowing he was right.
She was never a lowly catipillar, she was a beautiful from the begining; and now that she knew this, she'd never doubt her beauty again, even on the darkest of days.
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If you do it now because you think it'll make you happy, it's not worth regretting in a year if it turns out bad.
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Just Once
I will never see this day again. I will never see the clouds as they are, I will never hear the same conversation from the same birds as I do now, and the wind will not shake the trees as it does today.
And I think there’s such beauty in that. Each day sings us their very own song that will only be ever heard once; and this is why I will always observe the world with utter wonder and uniqueness.
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Our Loss
It was snowing the day you died. It made me believe the heavens were crying for our loss; from your family, to friends, to any stranger that you gave them a gift of a brighter day. You had that ability. The ability to keep your heart open to those who needed it the most, to those who needed it just a little.
I feel the day you died in my bones more than I can still feel you. It has been over a year and I am not ready to say goodbye. I will never be ready to say goodbye. Buy denying myself this closure is something you would frown upon, something you would tell me I need; that I must do.
I often wonder if you still exist, if you can still look upon those you cared for.
I am sitting in the spot that I walked by while I was calling my mother crying, telling her that you were gone; that you were not coming back.
I will never understand why these things happen to the best of people, and I have to stop myself from wondering this because it only brings me more grief.
It doesn’t seem to get easier, but I do know one thing. I will always carry you with me wherever I go, held tight in my heart. I will live for you, experience the culture you never got the chance to, travel to places you could never see; and I promise that I will never forget you.
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Naivety
When I was little, I fractured my wrist and thought it was the worst pain I’d ever feel. At times, I long to feel so little pain again; that a minor physical injury could be the worst pain I’d ever feel. Though feeling this way is just viewing the past through rose colored glasses. I may not have had worse pain, and not known there could be worse; but I was also too naive to know the satisfaction from working hard to earn my meals, to know what real happiness felt like, rather than the feeling of the joy children feel, and most importantly, love.
Things get incredibly hard at times. So hard, it feels as though it will never get easier; that I’m stuck in place. Then I remember that there are such wonderful things I do have in my life, and that will always overpower the negative things.
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