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Entering Into my Past a Caterpillar
But emerging from it a butterfly
I fled from my ghastly past nearly in a sprint to brighter days, toward the scorching heat of Las Vegas. I emerged there a new me, surrounded in vibrant culture I knew not existed. Craving the need to heal from my prior woes, I practiced yoga daily, began to flourish in the meditation world, awakened my chakras with every inhale and thus, every exhale. I was introduced to the astral realm in which I learned about the Sun, the Moon, the transitions and how we’re all connected in this vast world.
But then — my blossoming into a flower changed overnight when the raincloud of one tiny virus seeped itself out unto the world, weighing heavy on my dreams, aspirations, passions. With tears in my eyes (I was literally tear-gassed at one point, having been a bystander at a protest), I was forced into isolation, alone with my thoughts that were becoming self-mutilating. Days turned into weeks turned into months, the longer I was placed into confinement, away from any and all other beings.
So I once again packed up my belongings and headed back to the place I called my hometown but never my home. Except it wasn’t the me that left who had returned to the all-too familiar sceneries Wyoming gifted my new self: it was the me who had undergone a metamorphosis from my time spent healing in…
