Breaking Through

The day was bright with a deep blue sky and a painter’s touch of scattered clouds. Braving the crisp air, I secured a warm scarf under my jacket, then bent to tie my tennis shoe. Ah, there was no snow to worry about falling on my face.

It was time to meet up with a friend to take a brisk walk. Generally the quiet was preferred, but today a fun chat would be welcomed. Perhaps about a favorite restaurant or an interesting book I had just finished.

There she was, tucked into a ski jacket with matching gloves and hat. Words fell off her lips as she jumped-started our conversation. “So, I was wondering about the counseling you do. What sort of problems do people have? What bothers them the most … and how do you help them?”

Hmm … good questions I thought. “What do I usually hear? Loss. That is what I hear about. How to help? Be there and wear that person’s shoes.”

“Loss?” she asked. “Like something someone lost? What, for example?”

I quickly responded. “Loss is seen in many ways. Loss of good health, a relationship, employment, housing, death of a special person…”

“Oh, I know what you’re talking about,” she said. “After my mom died, I sold the family house. Then I found a new job in this town and rented an apartment. But I missed the way things used to be and for a long while I was upset. At times, I still am. Do these things happen to you?”

I nodded affirmatively. “Being human, there’s always some situation where loss happens.”

“And what happened to you? “

I stopped to straighten the hoodie attached to my tweed jacket; well, mostly to think for a moment. “Hmm … When I was in my late teens, there was this rainy afternoon when my mother gave me ten minutes to pack my stuff and leave. I rushed about in a frenzy and, as I tossed my last bag out of the house, she slammed the door and turned the lock.”

“What?”

I shrugged and looked over at my friend, her eyes pleading for more information. “We really did not get along. We both had had it and I was finished with arguing.”

“But what did you do? Where did you go?” she asked.

“I drove my old, overly-packed Chevy around wondering just that. As it was getting dark, I pulled into the driveway of a good friend from down the street. I sat there awhile working up the nerve to ask to spend the night. She was very kind and helpful. My stay there lasted a few months before I moved on."

“That was so awful! If this happened to me, I'm not sure what I would have done …”

“I think you would have responded with the right attitude just like you did when your mom passed away.”

“But my mother didn’t throw me out …”

"But she did leave you.”

We walked for a while in silence.

My friend turned to face me. “You're right. I was confused and angry when she died, upset because she was gone. It took me a while to figure things out.”

I responded, “But you did. These circumstances remind me of a favorite summer creature—the butterfly. It has an interesting growth experience which is very inspiring. From its larvae stage it develops a snug cocoon or, as it is called, pupa or chrysalis where growth happens. When it is ready for adulthood, it begins to wiggle, preparing its departure from the warm cocoon. Outside interference is harmful and without the intense strength and struggle to break free, it would die. The butterfly is an amazing creature …”

My friend nodded me on to continue.

“Well, this story really makes me smile. From all the distress and turmoil I experienced, there was support from others. But I had to find the inner strength and clarity to move forward—myself. I had to reach out and grasp it. Then, like the butterfly, I was able to break through to another level of becoming.”

"You know, I really like this example. Looking at the butterfly, I believe I have had this kind of breakthrough experience. But I’m not quite through it yet. There are some sad days.”

“I know. Even after all these years, there are times I feel down. That is simply being human. Moving forward, we can reflect on the past, seeking understanding in what was gained from it. It’s all part of the process.”

“Yes, I will get through this time in my life. And from the pain, will come happiness and peace.”

I nodded.

My friend smiled as we turned the corner towards home.

… “and that’s how I live it.”