Drunken Butterflies




There is this feeling you get just prior to receiving your heart’s desire – or your dream come true – or commencement of the new life you have been aspiring towards. It’s a buzzy … empty feeling. Empty because the old seems to have departed – buzzy because there is so much room within and the buzz of anticipation resounds in all the empty spaces … like drunken butterflies dancing in the dark.

But there is always a process.

Sometimes it can be a recognition that something great is about to transpire. It may be a vague feeling, a restless feeling or even a heartfelt feeling – heartfelt because you have worked hard, so hard; towards manifesting that, which you truly desire, that, which has seemed for eons to draw you close.

Sometimes it happens that dreams come to prepare you – wild and restless and crazy dreams filled with vivid images and tumultuous happenings and these dreams can leave you tumbling around in a vortex-like haze where sleep defies you and anticipation jettisons you …forge-like, through and into the next moment, day, night…

Then there is the loss. Things you once knew about your life seem to disappear – as if by no volition of yours. From the prosaic to the deeper level where they psyche reigns … people, things, jobs, interests, ideals, thoughts, habits, desires, feelings… all appear to find their demise. A sense of annihilation besets you. (Ah but it is annihilation of the old and that which no longer serves you, but that concept eludes you…leaves you numb, empty.)

Suddenly it is as if you no longer recognize your life. Remnants of your former existence appear like mirrored images against the black… blurred edges representing who you were, are, and where you have been.

Suddenly it is as if you no longer recognize your life.

Then there is the purging and the grieving – one must grieve what one has lost irrespective of whether one no longer needs it or if it is superfluous or no longer serves who you are…who you are becoming.

Then comes the hollow. That seems to be the worst. Hollow… as if all the senses are searching for the old ways, habits, thoughts, feelings, things, attitudes, people or ways of being.

[Hollow kept me awake at night. Hollow ate my food, hollow told me I was stupid, nothing, had nothing, and achieved nothing. Hollow taunted me with tales of my past and played with my doubts.

 Hollow sucked.

I fought hollow. Occasionally I tried to fill it, with all the old stuff … but it didn’t work. That stuff didn’t fit anymore. Actually I couldn’t find half the stuff. At some point I had rid myself of it.]

Then comes the moment.

That moment where the hollow settles into a state of peace. The fight is over. At some point, you had ceased fighting and maybe didn’t recognize that moment. At some point you ceased the struggle and simply surrendered. Because deep down you knew – you knew that part of you who has seen your new life, your dream, your greater you…the you that was always in the state of becoming – is there waiting and guiding and joyously celebrating all the greatness that is yours to have, to own, to share, to be.

And you take that moment and reach out.

You  reach into the surrender and into the part of you that can take you to the final step.

And the reach becomes a leap.

And you take that leap of faith, the one you often-times heard about, maybe even thought you had done many times before, but hadn’t. The leap of faith that bridges your entire existence into a moment of oneness where time and space mean nothing more than moments of bliss and everything makes sense… finally.

And in a blind moment or a dread-filled instant, you leap across the ravine, the abyss. There is no turning back… for if you do you will drop into the black of despair or you will find yourself clinging to the edge of your old life in a state of paralysis, with lamentations echoing into the eons of time.


“I held on fast and never gave up 

No matter the toil, 

I danced and sang with every jolt 

And stood against each foil, 

And so I let my dreams come true 

With every tear I wept, 

Knowing that my time was due 

In faith I stood and leapt.”


And then … victory.  Sweet, sweet victory and the drunken butterflies dance again. No longer the feeling of empty resounding anticipation. This time the buzz has a different melody. The melody of celebration, peace, bliss, unity.  And the song is your anthem, the anthem of your long awaited dreams.

And you sigh. A mammoth sigh of relaxation. And you relax into the knowledge that it is all there. Now.

You have achieved.

You are victor!

You have arrived.



“So like Sisyphus in his journey of torment 

My path has been arduous, pushing the boulder upward. 

And as the face of the Gods found merriment at his plight 

So too I suffered such scorn … my soul it does bite. 

Within the sight of hideous scorn, mockery and disdainful glee 

Like my comrade Sisyphus, I did climb the steepest mountain 

Whose peak is way beyond the highest sky – beyond the dreams of mortal men at least, 

And I stopped breathlessly upon broken knees, and to the angels I did entreat. 

With prayer in my veins and hope in my sinew, I journeyed onward 

I did traverse across all sands of time and take no shade from the glaring sun 

I did plunge the deepest sea, filled with a torrent of flowing tears 

It was then I came to triumph, over my gravest fears. 

Crimson faith led me through, bloodied by my journeys toil 

And in the mocking faces who find such mirth in my travail 

I did wield the sword of freedom, for fear is not mine to have or to own 

With a soul that is strong and a heart that is brave, victory I have sown”


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