The Caterpillar that Bit the Dust


We all know the life of the caterpillar that has to bite the dust, dragging its plump body in search of food. We can imagine the caterpillar thinking: “Will my existence always be like this? Why do I have the feeling of being trapped? ”

Poor thing, if she knew her destiny, if someone told her, if she only knew the color of the wings she was going to have with which to fly in the wind, then those days of boredom would become days of flourishing and pregnant hope. The mysterious moment of Chrysalis would arrive, when the caterpillar is surrounded by a cocoon, and during a time of apparent inactivity, undergoes a fabulous transformation.

The expression of biting the dust, originates in the Middle Ages when the knights, laying defeated on the ground, wounded to death, aware of their fatal end, plucked a handful of soil from the ground and bit it, as a last kiss to the land that had sustained them and was now going to receive them in its bosom.

Many victims of sexual abuse feel like the crawling caterpillar, biting the dust. They feel like the medieval knight, dead in life. But its true identity is not that of a caterpillar, it is that of a butterfly. Your destiny is not to crawl, your destiny is to fly.

When we begin an emotional healing process, we hide in a cocoon, in that chrysalis where metamorphosis occurs. We restore our lives there, looking at the things that give us life and not death. We will create truths that make us free, that make us fly, undoing the ancestral lies burned in our minds by the abuses that have broken us.

It is very important to note that the process of restoration towards a healthy mind and emotions is just that, a process. Sometimes progress is made by taking giant steps and at other times progress is made as the waves at high tide, which advance and recede, but with each wave a little more of the beach is conquered.

With strength and conviction we can declare to the four winds, that after a journey of renewal after renewal, we can know what it is to soar the airs driven by new wings colored by hope.


Joel de Bruine