The Blue & Yellow Post

Imaginal cells and grout lines January 5, 2009

I’m starting the New Year of 2009 with fresh new tiles throughout my living space and thinking about Caterpillars.

As the last stage in my home transformation process I’m surprised at the level of disquiet and unease the change has caused. I’ve replaced the tired dusty 25 year old carpet with cleaner lighter tiles - marked out with cream white grout lines.

For the first day in this new environment I found myself gingerly stepping around and over the grout lines like a child or an OCD sufferer avoiding cracks in the foothpath. I couldn’t get away quick enough, away from the potential dissonance that comes with a big purchase or job. Was it the right choice of colour? Is the job a good job? Why do I miss the carpet?

I escaped to my sister’s house 2 hours away for Christmas and New Year. Normally a haven where the brain slips into neutral, the body goes into idle and the heart gently opens. Calming, loving, no disquieting elements at all. A fabulous end of the year. As the weather proved to be a delight, we swam each day in warm Christmas water, retired early and slept in late. And during each day, the most energetic thing we found ourselves doing was making a pot tea for whoever was laying around nearby. 

Only this year was different. There was a discontent, a restlessness, and the ever present grief. Old feelings in a reliable setting, not unlike my now defunct carpet. Comments in passing, spiralling thoughts on the eve of a new year: Why was I alone? Was I driving people away? Would my life always be like this? Why was I such a worrier? Why didn’t I have more friends? Any friends? Why did I have to invade my sister’s life.

On New Year’s Eve it peaked. Friends, new and old, were invited around. There was predictable conversation and brand new people. The house was squeaky clean, the windows glistened, the table was over flowing with our signature dishes, the garden awash with sand-bagged candles, glowing as the sun descended.   My wish for the event was that it heralded a new year full of wonderfully creative loving people, as well as  an open hearted attitude in myself to new adventures and experiences. 

There were 2 conversations that evening that proved to be testament to the wish. The first was with a long-standing friend of my sister’s – who is opiniated, funny, wounded and guarded. Having just broken up with her boyfriend, and undergoing profound family dramas, she was transmitting nervously most of the night, old scripts, old lines, sure laughs, side-swipes and commentary.  In truth it was exhausting to watch and interact with. But then again, I had a head full of grout lines and sustainable fear of the future.

The 2nd conversation was with the new gay girlfriend of  a (previously assumed straight)  family friend. She was affirming, interested, gentle, alive, abundant, happy and in love. When you’re in love – is there a sweeter place? I found her delightful.

I got what I wished for. It was time to let the old way go, the old friends or friends of friends; the old way of worrying about everything; the old way of standing on my turf. And it was time to embrace the new. But how?

To transform yourself is hard. It’s hard enough changing the external environment, but now I have to face the disintegration of my old self.  Luckily my best teacher of all (my sister Cate) rang me with the answer – Imaginal Cells.

When a Caterpillar turns into a Butterfly it has to disintergrate and disolve first. Then almost by magic, imaginal cells appear to help the move into a Butterfly. All of this is done, unseen within a chrysalis. There’s a period of waiting and a total surrender to the process. When the Butterfly emerges it’s hard to link the two creatures so tranformed is the shape, look, feel, weight and scope.

If that means I have to walk on the grout lines, I will!  Just Imagine then, what I’ll be able to do.