Three Lessons From Geese About Spiritual Sustainability and Endurance

INTRODUCTION Bar-headed geese are some of the most remarkable birds in nature.  It’s estimated that at least 50,000 of them winter in India.  And when summer nears, they undertake the two month 5000 mile migration back to their home in Central Asia.  What makes this trip remarkable is that the route they choose to take every year is the world’s steepest migratory flight—they fly over the highest mountain in the world, Mount Everest in the Himalayas.

Amazingly, this route is where the air is thinnest and oxygen level lowest.  What’s more, the thinner air means that less lift is generated when the birds flap their wings, thereby increasing the energy costs of flying by around 30 per cent.  And yet they still fly the same route over the highest place on earth.

Scientists now find that these geese do not make use of tailwinds or updrafts that could give them a boost up the mountain.  They choose instead to rely on several other remarkable resources:

(1) Muscle power—these geese have a denser network of capillaries that reach oxygen-carrying blood to the cells.  So their blood is capable of binding and transporting more oxygen to where it’s needed most, their wing muscles.

(2) Large lungs—they also have larger lungs for their size and breathe more heavily than other waterfowl. Unlike humans, bar-headed geese can breathe in and out very rapidly without getting dizzy or passing out.  By hyperventilating, they increase the net quantity of oxygen that they get into their blood and therefore into their muscles.

(3) Team work—geese are famous for utilizing in flight the V-formation which helps reduce individual energy consumption by up to 30%.  The whole flock gets over 70% better mileage than if each bird flew solo.  When the lead bird gets weary, it drops back and a new one takes the lead.  As the birds vigorously flap their wings, it creates lift for the bird behind.  These geese actually choose to fly over Mt. Everest at one time rather than breaking up the trip, typically a grueling eight hour marathon.  And in addition, if one of the geese gets too tired or gets injured or sick, two of the other geese shepherd the weaker one back down to the ground and stay with it until it either gets stronger or dies.  Then they rejoin the group or find another group to fly with to complete their migration.

(4) External conditions—many scientists had thought the geese were taking advantage of daytime winds that blow up and over mountaintops. But recent research showed the birds forgo the winds and choose to fly at night, when conditions tend to be relatively calmer.  They're potentially avoiding higher winds in the afternoon, which might make flights more uncomfortable or more risky.  The birds could potentially head east or west and fly around, rather than over, the mountain range, but this would add several days to their trip and would actually use up more energy.  So they go straight over the highest point on earth in an attempt to manage their energy as efficiently as possible.  It’s counter-intuitive.

So what can we learn from these geese about how to develop a strong, sustainable, enduring spirituality—the kind that can face great risks and obstacles and complete the journey well?  What does it take to enjoy spiritual sustainability?

THREE LESSONS FROM GEESE ABOUT DEVELOPING SPIRITUAL SUSTAINABILITY

Lesson One, Maximize your spiritual oxygen—breathe deeply.  Like the geese, we all have the inner capacities to develop spiritual sustainability—we have good muscles and good lungs.  But for those to be maximized, we have to breathe deeply to get the most amount of oxygen possible to our spiritual muscles.

These geese have the lung capacity to be able to hyperventilate when they need it for Mt. Everest.  When they’re at home, they certainly don’t spend all of their time hyperventilating.  But when they need it the most, facing their arduous migration, they’ve developed the capacity for it.

So how can you and I increase our lung capacity to breathe deeply and get life-giving oxygen to our spiritual muscles?  This is what spiritual practices are all about—engaging regularly in activities that involve spiritual breathing, breathing deeply of the divine Spirit, accessing the power that is greater than ourselves—Prayer, meditation, scripture/inspirational reading, journaling [for example, the direct method of communication with your Trusted Source—based upon Carl Jung’s model of active imagination], spiritual conversations, sacred rituals, sacred objects, building altars of remembrances, nature immersion.  This is about engaging in ways to “wake up” to God’s presence in you and all around you, ways to “pay attention” to That which is greater than your self, ways to “breathe in” the divine spirit.

PERSONAL APPLICATION:  What do you currently do spiritually to breathe deeply?  What sacred rituals do you intentionally engage in?  What kind of plan do you have for regular spiritual breathing?

Lesson Two, Exercise your spiritual muscles—act on faith.  I love this definition of faith:  “Faith is daring the soul to go beyond what the eyes can see.”  William Newton Clark

Spiritual teachers remind us that faith is the language of the soul.  And the soul is what both holds our life purpose and catapults us towards it.  Our egos care most about happiness, security, safety, success, status.  The soul cares about aliveness, courage, purpose, effectiveness, faith.  And faith is the language of the soul.

So, when you act on faith, when you intentionally choose to take a step forward in your spiritual quest, when you say “yes” to faith, your spiritual muscles strengthen, and new resources become available.

That’s why, in the story of the Hebrews needing to cross the flooded Jordan River in order to get over to the Promised Land, God gave instructions for the priests carrying the ark of the covenant to lead the way into the river.  And it wasn’t until they stepped into the river that the waters parted all the way across.  Those first steps were steps of faith—choices to follow God’s instructions even when their eyes couldn’t see the way.

Indiana Jones, in the movie “Temple of Doom,” had to step out in faith, putting his foot out into the nothingness, the chasm of the abyss, in order for the bridge to appear so they could cross it to the other side where the coveted Holy Grail was hidden.

The way many people live is by playing it safe, or shrinking from difficulty, or refusing to act unless all the ducks are lined up in a row or the future can be clearly seen.  It’s true, we need to be smart when we’re faced with choices.  But sometimes, the counter-intuitive smart choice is to act even when you can’t see the end.  Our paralysis of fear atrophies our spiritual muscles.  What you don’t use gets lost.  Muscles get flabby and lose their resilience and strength.

We can breathe deeply all we want, we can learn to hyperventilate and get rich oxygen to our muscles effectively all we want.  But if we never use those oxygenated muscles, none of that makes a difference.

When you act in faith, taking a step forward, new resources become available.  And that courageous act strengthens the spiritual muscles, empowering you to take the next step.  Faith is acting on the belief that you have what you need, like the geese, the necessary equipment and inner capacity, to fly over the Mt. Everests of life.  So use it!

I can honestly tell you that when I look back on the crises I’ve gone through and see where I am today, I am in awe of the inner resources I was able to call out of myself that I didn’t even know I had.  That awareness has helped me to learn not to be afraid of or to avoid the Mt. Everests because it’s only in flying over them that we can see what our spiritual muscles are truly capable of.

PERSONAL APPLICATION:  So what steps of faith are you being called to take these days?  How is your soul being dared to go beyond what your eyes can see?  What is one step forward you can take right now to exercise your spiritual muscles?

Lesson Three, Leverage the support of others—ask for help.  The genius of the geese’s V-formation flying style is the way it leverages the power of team effort.  Getting over Mt. Everest is almost impossible solo.  Drafting with others maximizes energy and productivity.

Richard Bolles is the author of history’s best-selling book about job hunting and career change, What Color Is Your Parachute.  He was interviewed once about the subject of being self-employed.  He said that self employed people can hire out just about any skill, even, to some degree, discipline; you can get someone to call you every week to help keep you on track.  But, he said, the only trait you cannot hire out and without which you’ll “die on the vine” is the willingness to ask for help.

Trying to go it alone in life is, as one author described it, like “stringing beads without tying a knot at the end.”  Without having the help of other people to secure the end, we simply keep slipping away.

Spiritual sustainability, the power to endure in the long run, requires asking for the support of others—inviting trusted people into our lives for accountability, vision, wisdom, encouragement, strength.  We have to be willing to ask for what we need and want.

I remember when I first moved here to San Francisco all by myself—after having gone through a huge personal crisis that shattered my self confidence and sent me into what I was tempted to see as a fatal tailspin—I called up three guys who had been my friends for years—they all lived in different parts of the country—and I asked each of them if they would “fly the V-formation” with me for a long while—“Would you be willing to call me every week and talk with me, encourage me, support me, and let me draft you.”  That was one of the most spiritually strategic steps of faith I could have taken during that Mt. Everest time for me.  I had to summon enough courage and initiative to ask for help.

Percy Ross authors a column called “Thanks A Million” that is syndicated in more than seven hundred newspapers around the country.  This Minneapolis millionaire is trying to dispose of the fortune it took him nearly 60 years to accumulate by working to redistribute his wealth among people who write to him with their stories of need and sometimes greed.  He gets 2000 letters a day.  Those that touch him he responds to with a check.

In an interview, he talked about the importance of asking.  He said, “Asking is in my opinion the world’s most powerful—and neglected—secret to success.  I certainly wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t convinced many, many people to help me along the way.  The world is full of genies waiting to grant our wishes.  There are plenty of people who will gladly give you a hand.”

Knowing what you want is one thing—a very important thing, to be sure.  But that doesn’t really matter in the end unless you learn to ask for it.  As Richard Bolles said, the willingness to ask for help is a nonnegotiable component of successful living.  Spiritual sustainability and strength require us involving others in our lives in crucial, significant ways.  There’s no such thing as a spiritual lone ranger.  The mighty Lone Ranger had Tonto.  Even Jesus the Son of God had Peter, James & John (and nine others to follow him around).

PERSONAL APPLICATION:  Whom do you have in your life to draft with, to fly in V-formation with?  Who do you need to ask?  What do you want for your life and are you asking clearly and confidently for it, asking for help?

SUMMARY

So what does it take to develop spiritual sustainability, a spirituality that endures the long run with strength and vitality?  What lessons can we learn from the barheaded geese?  First, Maximize your spiritual oxygen—breathe deeply.  Second, Exercise your spiritual muscles—act on faith.  And third, Leverage the support of others—ask for help.

CONCLUSION

One of the Old Testament stories that provides a sort of comic relief to the serious messages of the prophets and yet offers a deeply encouraging view of the divine reality swirling around in the midst of our stories—one of the ultimate resources for spiritual endurance--is the legend of Jonah.

God calls him to go to the fierce people of Ninevah—the most feared enemies of his Jewish people—and preach a message of impending divine judgment.  Now preaching judgment to anyone is uncomfortable.  But to the Ninevahites?  Considering that these fierce warriors skinned their enemies alive, I can understand Jonah’s immediate hesitancy to accept this calling.  He doesn’t just say No to God, he jumps on a ship that is sailing in the opposite direction from Ninevah to try to outrun both God and his mission.

No one ever promised there would be no risk in following our spiritual destiny.  In fact, truth is, there is always fear involved in flying over Mt. Everest.  Our temptation is to capitulate and cave in to the paralysis of status quo.

On the way to far away, Jonah falls asleep in the bowels of the boat.  A fierce storm comes up.  The captain finds Jonah and wakes him up.  “Better come on deck with the rest of us—we’re trying to decide our fate.”  The sailors cast lots to see who among them is bringing on this wrath of the gods.  That’s when Jonah speaks up with his story of fear and failure, saying, “I’m the one at fault here.  Throw me over board and that’ll solve your storm problem.”

He’s thinking that he’s not even safe from God and his calling on a ship going in the opposite direction from Ninevah.  If he’s thrown overboard, at least he’ll drown and never have to worry again about facing God or the Ninevahites.

But when he’s sinking to the depths of sea, God sends a huge fish to swallow him to keep him alive and save him for his mission.  “Thanks, God!”  In the belly of the fish, though, Jonah recognizes what God is calling him to do, accepts God’s promise to empower him with courage and strength, and repents of his cowardice and fear.  “If this cup cannot pass from me, Your will not mine be done,” he utters.

After three days and three nights, the fish spits him out onto the beach nearest Ninevah, wouldn’t you know it.  And he marches into the city and ends up causing a massive revival among those enemy people who end up treating him like a hero who has saved their lives from judgment.

Spiritual sustainability, spiritual strength and endurance, take place not just from us breathing deeply, acting in faith or even in fear, and asking for help from others—but also from a Divine Presence that swirls and blows and moves in the midst of our stories, a Divine Presence that believes in our destiny even more than we do, who believes in us even when we’ve given up.  That Sacred Spirit breathes into our lives hope and courage, engaging other players on our behalf, turning failure into fertilizer, redeeming our cowardice for courage, staying with us until we fulfill our holy destiny.  It’s the Wind beneath our wings, the Oxygen streaming into our muscles, that empowers us over Mt. Everest safely to our promised land.

Now that’s a Resource to keep holding on to!

Four Secrets Rivers Tell Us About Spiritual Health, Part 2

In my last post, I introduced the concept about rivers being viewed by spiritual and religious traditions as metaphors and symbols for the spiritual life.  I described the basic journey of the river, beginning in the mountains and ultimately emptying into the sea. Rivers and Spiritual Growth

So what does the river’s journey tell us about spiritual growth? Let me suggest four secrets.

First, The Source of life is Sacred, which makes all of life Sacred.  The flow of life is Sacred.  There is a holy purpose to our lives, to our journey.  Everything we have done and do has a Sacred dimension to it.

That’s why for so many spiritual traditions the process of spirituality is awakening, paying attention to life as Sacred, learning how to encounter and embrace the Divine in every experience of life.  St. Augustine once wrote, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you.”  Life is about connecting, reconnecting with—acknowledging, honoring—our Sacred Source.

Second, All individuals are from the same Source, which makes everyone Sacred.  A River is a combining of individual streams into one flow.  So if the Source is Sacred, then every individual is Sacred, too.  Which means that healthy spirituality is about recognizing the Sacredness of every person we encounter.

That’s what giving the Blessing is all about—remember we’ve talked about that spiritual practice before?  Giving the Blessing to another is acknowledging the divine goodness in that person, no matter who he or she is, and calling it out of that person by affirming it and honoring it.  That’s what the Hindu greeting “Namaste” means—“The divine goodness in me honors and greets the divine goodness in you.”

Spirituality cannot be healthy and grow without this significant recognition and embrace.  That’s why healthy spirituality must involve an outward focus, not just an inward one.  We have the divine joy of looking at others and calling out, honoring their Sacredness.  Life is about helping others embrace their own divine goodness.  Imagine what the world would be like if everyone looked at others in this light, instead of constantly judging or criticizing or labeling or condemning.

That’s why the Bible ends with the beautiful picture of one God, one City, one River that nourishes one People—everyone being vitalized and revitalized by the same Source forever!

Third, Spirituality is not a straight line, it has twists and turns.  It’s amazing how often we label the twists and turns of our lives as bad, harmful, negative, detours, even “not God’s will.”  Right?

The reality is that no river runs straight.  Every river has twists and turns.  And here’s what really impresses me: according to the experts, “The twists and turns are Nature's way of keeping Her life-giving Waters healthy:  they create the eddies that aerate the Water which is so vital to the nourishment and preservation of all the people, animals and vegetation which rely on the River for sustenance.”

The very things that we think damage us and therefore should be avoided at all costs in fact can keep us healthy—they aerate our lives—bring more oxygen into our system which actually revitalizes us.

What would it be like to approach what you consider to be a “twist and turn” in your life and ask yourself, “How can this experience aerate—that is, bring more life into—my spirituality?  What can I learn about myself through this?  How will I allow this to expand my life rather than diminish it?”

It’s interesting when it comes to rivers—there are those enthusiasts, like kayakers and rafters, who live for the mad and bellowing, raging rapids.  I took a trip years ago, a rafting trip, right through the famed Hells Canyon on the Snake River.  Wow, I gotta tell you—I certainly wouldn’t have considered myself anywhere close to a hard-core rafter—but that trip was high adrenaline and amazingly enlivening, to put it mildly.  We went through one chute, our guide manning the rudder or back end of our raft, all of us paddling for our lives, and slammed head on into a huge boulder.  One of the guys in the raft got thrown out.  I about had a heart attack!  But we finally got through and ultimately to quieter water.  The guy who had been spit out of the dragon’s mouth beat us to the finish line, fortunately unhurt but emerging from the water shaking from head to toe.

There are people who love that stuff and go for class 6 whitewater rapids all the time!  The twists and turns and rapids have a way of focusing you pretty quickly.  You emerge on an adrenaline high from sheer gratitude that you made it!  Colors look a lot deeper.

I read this statement recently from Gregg Levoy’s book Callings.  He’s quoting philosopher and psychotherapist Karlfried Graf Durkheim.  “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over again to annihilation can that which is indestructible arise within us.  In this lies the dignity of daring.  We must have the courage to face life, to encounter all that is most perilous in the world.”  (p. 258)

Every myth or legend has a hero or heroine who ends up facing some kind of a dragon or monster that represents what they deeply fear.  They have to face it and fight it before they can fulfill their destiny.  The fight is always brutal and fierce.  They don’t know if they’ll come out victorious but they fight on.  We wouldn’t watch movies or read books if the stories didn’t have these twists and plots, right?

The author is referring to the importance of facing our fears and risks associated with following our purpose in life.  When you are able to face your fear, which often involves a fear of failing or, as the philosopher put it, the feeling like you’re going to be “annihilated"--the fear of losing yourself and being forgotten--you allow the courage inside you to emerge.  You find out that you are in fact bold.  You can face life and encounter what you didn’t think you had it in you to survive.  That’s not only focusing, it’s empowering!  Not only does facing this fear cause you to not lose yourself, you actually end up finding your true self.

Levoy says that “Fear is a signal that you’re close to something vital and that your calling is worthy of you.” (p. 257)

The twists and turns and rapids of life produce fear which informs us of what’s truly important to us.  And they give us opportunity to do something about what’s important to us—to act on what is vital to us.

Healthy spirituality is about being willing to embrace every stage of and section of our Life River—to learn more deeply about ourselves and the nature of life from the quiet times, from the broad, open expanses like lakes, as well as from the twists and turns and swirling eddies.  Spirituality involves all of those sections and times and stages.  Just like with rivers, life without all these diverse experiences keep our spirituality from stagnating (as opposed to the river ending in a pond with no outlet).  Our health demands all this diversity for growth.

And four, Spirituality is learning the art of effective change management.  Have you ever stood on a bridge over a river and looked down at the flowing water?  It’s almost mesmerizing, isn’t it.  Has a kind of hypnotic effect.  One thing you can’t help but notice is that you never see the same water twice.  That’s where we get the euphemism from:  “It’s all water under the bridge.”  In other words, everything changes so let it go.

Heraclitus of Ephesus, the 5^th century BC Greek philosopher, famous for his doctrine of change being central to the Universe, wrote:  "You can never step into the same river; for new waters are always flowing on to you."

Change is inherent in life and spirituality.  Healthy spirituality is about learning how to steward change effectively.  It involves two vital choices.  One, letting the old go.  And two, embracing the new.  Just like we do when we watch a river—we see water go, and we see new water come.  We really don’t have any control over that flow.  We simply accept what it is and choose our response to it.

This is why many of the effective spiritual practitioners tell their adherents to do their spiritual practices by the river—so they can observe this flow and learn the art of acceptance.  Like we have to do with our thoughts during meditation—we observe them and then let them go, without paying undue attention by focusing on them and obsessing on them.  Letting them go peacefully and respectfully.  It’s all water under the bridge; nothing you can do about it; let it go.

Isn't this what the Serenity Prayer is all about?  Those in recovery have learned to repeat this prayer regularly, sometimes even hourly and even minute by minute to stay focused:  "God grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change; COURAGE to change the things I can; and WISDOM to know the difference.”

APPLICATION

So to build a healthy, vital, growing spirituality, we learn to ask ourselves some very important questions:

• What do I learn about myself through my responses to the different ups and downs of my life?
• What are the stories I tell myself about loss and grief and pain that end up shaping my responses to them?
• What does my fear tell me about what in that situation is important to me?
• How can I allow these “whitewater rapids” to produce greater spiritual health in me, to aerate my life?

I would invite you to spend some alone time, reflecting on these questions.  Perhaps even journal your responses.  It helps to bring thoughtful intentionality to your spiritual path.

CONCLUSION

I love the story in the Hebrew Bible of Namaan, the commander of the Syrian army.  Israel and Syria are bitter enemies, both fighting to exterminate the threat of the other.  Both fighting to prove their God is the stronger god.  Life in those days is all about the battle of the Gods.

Namaan ends up getting leprosy, a horrible skin disease with no cure.  He’s horrified and ashamed and fearful.  The little servant girl in his home is and Israelite girl who sees his condition and tells her mistress that Namaan should go see her prophet Elisha who could heal him.

So he swallows his pride and ends up going.  The Hebrew prophet tells him to go to the Jordan River and wash himself seven times and he would be healed.  Namaan is infuriated!  “What??  Who does this Jew think he is, asking me to go to the Jew’s sacred river, a dirty river at that, when we have our own more beautiful, more sacred rivers than theirs!!!  “I don’t care if he is a holy man!  Forget this business!  I’m going home!”

But his officers reason with him, saying, “Come on, sir, how hard can it be to do this simple thing?  If the prophet had asked you do a great thing, you’d have happily done it.  You should go to the Jordan River!”

So Namaan again swallows his pride and goes.  He stands there watching the dirty water flow by.  He’s angry inside.  His ego is strong.  He says, “This is not the water I want!  But it’s what I have.  Here I am.  So I will step into the flow of this river, trusting in the Sacred Invitation, this Sacred moment right here, right now, and immerse myself in it, and then I’ll leave.”

“So Naaman went down to the Jordan River and dipped himself seven times, as the man of God has instructed him.  And his flesh became as healthy as a young child’s, and he was healed!”  (2 Kings 5:14)

The very thing that Namaan was repulsed by, the very thing that represented something he didn’t want any part of, something he thought would humiliate him, that which seemed the most humbling thing for him to do, was the instrument of healing and transformation for him.  The Sacred River of life.

The River of Spirituality is about laying down our egos, embracing that which often we cannot understand or have a difficulty accepting, and with courage choosing to step into Its flow and immerse ourselves in that Water.  Who knows what kind of healing and transformation might result?  Acknowledge the Sacredness of life, honor the Sacred in all others, accept the twists and turns as tools for growth, and choose to step into the flow of Now with peace, courage, wisdom, and hope.

What do you think?

Spiritual Transformation: Liquify Or Petrify

[If you enjoy this blog, please SHARE it with your friends and others who might be interested.  You can click in the column to the right and choose how you want to share this.] As we talked about in last week's post, the butterfly's metamorphosis process is quite a profound metaphor for spiritual transformation and life development.  At the end of the post, I listed several lessons we can learn from those stages.  Let me comment on one of them that is particularly challenging for many of us.  I hear from people I work with all the time about this issue.  And having gone through a major transition in my own life, I can relate to this stage quite well.

One of the staggering things that takes place in stage three of the caterpillar's metamorphosis to becoming a butterfly is that once a caterpillar goes into its cocoon, it literally liquifies—completely changing itself all the way to the molecular level before it can recreate itself into a butterfly.  It basically loses everything, not just shedding its outer layer but a profound internal transformation - a complete disintegration of the old in order to take on the new original design for its ultimate purpose, a butterfly.

Dr. Martha Beck, a monthly columnist for O Magazine and the author of several international bestsellers, recently at a large women's conference, talked about this life transformation process and put it this way, "In a very real sense, when we begin a cycle of transformation, we have to experience the disintegration of our old self before real change can take place. The meltdown can take many forms, but often it has to be cataclysmic—break up of a marriage, loss of a job, or a deep physical crisis like a diagnosis of cancer or a very sick child. For many of us personal shock sends us into the cocoon."

We end up forming a cocoon in order to feel safe during these crisis or difficult times.  The cocoon experience often is like circling the wagons - trying to construct a safe place against the threatening forces around us and sometimes even in us.  We need to come to some clarity about what all this chaos means to our lives.  We need to figure out what our next steps are.

But there's a simultaneous danger from a huge temptation within.  Dr. Astrid Sheil, who blogged about Martha Beck's presentation at the women's conference, commented, “Here in square one, we have a tendency to want to become bigger caterpillars. In other words, we try to hold onto the status quo as  long as possible. Maybe if we just work 80 hours a week instead of 75, we won’t get fired. Maybe if we subsume our needs, we can keep a failing marriage from coming apart at the seams. But of course, we are just fooling ourselves. When it is time to begin the transformation process, there is no capitulation or compromise that can divert the process. However, transformation can be delayed if we are unwilling to accept ourselves the way we are. The key to beginning the process is to 'totally' accept ourselves and the reality of our situation. We must surrender to the truth—the old way doesn’t work anymore, we can’t go back, and the future is unclear and unknown."

I can relate to that temptation to simply want to become a bigger caterpillar.  The radical metamorphosis into the butterfly, which involves the complete disintegration of our selves, is too painful, too risky, to uncertain of the ultimate outcome.  Status quo is so much safer, or so we try to deceive ourselves into believing.  But the reality is, if the caterpillar remained inside the cocoon without its meltdown (its internal transformation), it would never end up fulfilling its ultimate destiny - flying and soaring as an adult butterfly.

My personal struggle of trying to figure out who I was as a professional outside the religious organization I had spent 25 years serving within was painful and challenging.  I  had dreams regularly of being back leading spiritual communities where I had been before.  I would wake up and be tempted to think, "That must be a message to me that I need to go back somehow.  I need to simply be a bigger caterpillar.  Stay inside the cocoon where I was so safe all my life."  I would wake up from those dreams with feelings of fear, forboding, insecurity, uncertainty, a sense of doom.  In that paradigm, growth and transformation were simply within the cocoon rather than from cocoon to the outside world.  The emerging was too scary a thought.  But ironically and counter-intuitively, that paradigm was not in harmony with my ultimate purpose.

Dr. Sheil described it this way:  "We have all experienced these dreaded feelings. Limbo is scary. Not knowing is exhausting. Loss of identity can lead to depression. Why would anyone choose to go through the process of transformation? According to Beck, we have no choice. This is a cyclical process and we all go through it at different times and for different reasons. But like the caterpillar, when we get through the four stages of (1) crash and burn, (2) expansive imagining, (3) this is harder than I thought, and (4) the promise land—we are forever changed and expanded."

On a spiritual note, I'm reminded of how Jesus referred to the radical nature of this transformation experience.  Talking to a religious leader who came in the darkness of night to interview him, Jesus said to this man who of all people would have been considered to be living the "butterfly" life (surely he had already "emerged" to occupy the top of the religious-social totem pole, the pinnacle of the significance pyramid):  "Unless you are born again, you cannot enter the kingdom of God."  (John 3:3)

Now that's a shocking message to a person who thought he'd already arrived.  But in essence, Jesus was informing him that he was simply still a caterpillar who was trying to be a bigger, more fancy caterpillar - he thought being a caterpillar was enough - and that of all the caterpillars, he certainly was the biggest and best.

But being a caterpillar isn't enough.  Because the caterpillar is suppose to become a butterfly.  But if it wants to become a butterfly, it has to allow itself a radical, complete transformation inside its cocoon.  It has to let go completely of itself, allow whatever needs to disintegrate to disintegrate, in order to finally re-form and emerge as the intended butterfly.

You must be reborn, Jesus said.  You have to allow yourself to let go and become a new person - be re-formed inside the spiritual womb in order to be reborn into the person you've been designed all along to become.  There's certainly nothing wrong with being a caterpillar.  After all, that's one of the important stages of the metamorphosis process.  But we can't stay caterpillars because it's not in alignment with our ultimate destiny.  And the caterpillar that stays inside the cocoon ultimately dies, turning into a shriveled up, petrified skeleton.

We have to allow ourselves to go through the painful ordeal and struggle of letting go of whatever it is that might keep us from transitioning adequately to the next stage.  Often times these are limiting beliefs that if held onto disempower us from forward movement.  Some times they are relationships that are dragging us down or disempowering us spiritually or personally or emotionally and unless those relationships themselves are transformed or ultimately let go of, they continue holding us like heavy weights from running the race.  Most of the time, they are self-identities that are false or limiting or not accurate - we have become accustomed to connecting our sense of self with our productivity, or our accomplishments, or our connection to an organization, or our reputation with others, or our status in society - so that when those external circumstances change, we lose our sense of self and get side-lined and side-tracked and disillusioned.

Jesus said to that religious leader, if you want to enjoy life in the kingdom of God, you have to go through a radical transformation process that involves developing a whole new identity - a rediscovery of your true identity as a child of God who has inherent value, not based on your associations or accomplishments or reputations, but based upon who you truly are as that divine child.  Only then will you emerge from the cocoon, not as a bigger caterpillar, but as a beautiful, unique butterfly ready to lift off and soar into the skies of your ultimate God-given, God-designed purpose and destiny.  So maybe one of the most significant steps of being a caterpillar inside the cocoon is to learn how to embrace ourselves with love and compassion and acceptance for who we really are!

Our choice in life is to liquify or petrify.  Pretty starkly stated.  But clear.  It's okay to feel lost in the cocoon stage, to feel disoriented, to lose a sense of direction and purpose, to feel afraid and uncertain.  I certainly have in my times of radical transition and change.  But the good news is, that's all in preparation for the next stage.  As long as we don't let ourselves stay in status quo inside the cocoon - as long as we end up using that time to rethink, replan, reassess, refocus, restore, and embrace ourselves in the process - we'll be ready to emerge, not as bigger or different caterpillars, but as magnificent flying butterflies.  I'm all for that!