Shout Out to the Caterpillar!

Like many women, I have a fascination with the butterfly. I’m drawn to the unique colors and artistic displays splattered on its angelic wings. I’m drawn to its majestic, delicate beauty and the freedom that oozes from its existence as it flutters about, landing when and where it desires. I can be lulled into a meditative trance as I watch the little winged wonder execute what appears to be a random landing atop a leaf that welcomed its arrival.

As much as I admire the butterfly, I am in deep and profound awe of its predecessor, the lowly caterpillar. If not for its decision to remain immersed in an internal process that requires its isolation from external stimuli and influences, the butterfly could not exist.

The caterpillar is the butterfly’s unsung hero. And although they appear to be two separate entities, they really are one in the same. The caterpillar instinctively knows its potential. Becoming a butterfly is in its DNA; it is born to soar.

As are women.

Women who intend to soar like butterflies must be willing to endure a similar, caterpillar-like existence prior to stepping into their potential; which is living the life that has their name on it.

The soaring of which I speak is not the pseudo-success that is heavy on material possession but light on healthy minds and bodies, lasting joy and harmonious relationships.

The soaring of which I speak includes a bounty of sacred material possessions and healthy minds and bodies, lasting joy, harmonious relationships and work that feels like play because it is our passion and purpose. This soaring has courage as its foundation and an unapologetic desire to find and cherish the only voice that knows and speaks our truth – our own.  

Women who soar like butterflies have spent time, like the caterpillar, doing the internal work that makes soaring possible.

Women who soar like butterflies are not bogged down by their past because their inner work includes forgiveness.

Women who soar like butterflies constantly attract more goodness to them because they live from a state of gratitude.

Women who soar like butterflies understand the power of their thoughts and how to use them as the magnets that they are.

Women who soar like butterflies don’t just fantasize about the life of their dreams; they bring their fantasy to life by learning to visualize it clearly first and to then take action on it.

Women’s fascination with the butterfly is not limited to its physical beauty. Our fascination is also to the powerful analogy between its journey and our own. We know instinctively that we are born to soar. We also know, like the caterpillar, that it takes internal work.

Unlike the caterpillar, our soaring requires a choice. 

To soar or not to soar? That is the question.  

If you’re ready to soar, go to www.michellehollinger.com today to register for The Butterfly Excursion. Register today and take advantage of the introductory price of $7.00. (No, that’s not a typo!)  

 

The Butterfly Excursion

A naive caterpillar views butterflies soaring above with disdain; oblivious to the truth that becoming a butterfly is also her destiny. A discerning caterpillar relishes incubation and is intently focused on absorbing the wisdom, soaking up the divine guidance, storing up the sacred courage that is activated and kicked into high gear when convinced that the inner splendor in its midst has been given permission to soar.                                                          

- Michelle Hollinger

When women submit to a tattoo artist’s ink, a butterfly is frequently the preferred image; and with good reason: the life of a butterfly holds remarkable parallels to a woman’s evolution.

The caterpillar’s emergence from its cocoon, where internally, significant work takes place in preparation for its ascent into the winged life of the majestic butterfly, is a powerful metaphor for the woman who understands the adage, “as within, so without.”

The butterfly parallel resonates because it is steeped in our innate longing to emerge as the woman we are here to become. It intrigues because life is about evolving and we assume that our ascension to the level where our best self hangs out is a given; that we will begin to click on all cylinders – fully immersed in our calling, enjoying the abundance that flows easily from sharing our passion, engaging in harmonious relationships with parents, children and with a soul mate also living their truth; standing serenely in our authenticity – our “yeses” meaning yes and our “nos” no; owning our voice, speaking up courageously, demonstrating to others how we are to be treated by loving ourselves deeply and honoring ourselves unapologetically.

The mere passage of time does not ensure ascension. What happens during the passage of time determines whether we decide, once and for all, to grab that elusive aspiration because we deserve to know, in this lifetime, what it feels like to finally achieve a cherished goal, like releasing the stubborn excess weight, ditching the paycheck to paycheck merry-go-round, or peacefully exiting the outgrown relationship.

If the passage of time involves shutting off the external noise and listening to our own voice, we could arrive at the unmistakable truth that it’s up to us and only us to transition from what feels safe to what is true.

If the passage of time includes getting to know who we really are, then we’ll invest time enough with our inner splendor to know that allowing it to linger in what is essentially confined space can kill us because it doesn’t belong there – it’s supposed to be expressed, its wings are meant to expand.

If the passage of time involves connecting with the goddess within, even the pristine among us may passionately whisper, mostly to ourselves, “fuck the comfort zone,” it’s time to step boldly into MY zone – the zone that has my name on it and frees me to dance for no reason and sing on key or off as though no one is listening.

If the passage of time involves deep, inner excursions, comparisons will end as the delicious uniqueness of our path reaches up and clutches our heart, refusing to let go until we surrender to its beauty; and we not only refuse to covet someone else’s journey, we finally comprehend that everything – every single thing - our childhood experiences,  our families of origin and choice; our detours and joys and passions and flaws and assets are parts of OUR unique puzzle that fit perfectly when we embrace them as divine fuel for manifesting OUR authentic life. 

If, after passage of its cocooned time, a caterpillar has completed the internal work and is ready to emerge, but doesn’t, it will cease to exist because it did not ascend to its reason for existing. It dies a natural death and is eaten by other insects and small animals in the great circle of life. 

If, during her passage of time, a woman does not engage her inner splendor, if she does not become an archeologist in her own life, if she doesn’t use her time to turn inward to the innate courage and power poised to leap with her into her reason for existence, she, too, dies a natural death.

Although the date of her burial may be in the distant future – she is essentially among the walking dead; those people who continue to move and breathe but no longer exist because stepping fully into their existence took a back seat to fear, others’ opinions,  an addiction to  "coulda, woulda, shouldas" and a flat out refusal to soar. 

Your Thoughts Are Calling!

Chaos and confrontation have become celebrated forms of entertainment. Spreading gossip under the guise of celebrity reporting is an accepted part of our daily existence, and the more ratchet the reality show, the higher the ratings.

Social media’s benign seduction lulls people into devoting exorbitant amounts of time to posting, sharing, liking and tweeting; providing a false sense of connection and pseudo-validation to folk genuinely craving something more.

There’s a twisted type of irony at play when parents post pictures of themselves at dinner with their children and then spend half the dinner responding to strangers who praise them for spending time with their children. Families’ already tenuous connections have fallen prey to social media’s lure.

Also, the rampant preoccupation with seeking others’ approval and staying atop trending topics means that the inward focus necessary for bringing our own dreams and goals to reality is knocked off course.  

Viewing faithfully and posting incessantly feels harmless, but these are not victimless spectator sports. The biggest victim is the person who cannot hear the call of her own thoughts because they are drowned out by the thoughts of others. 

And while watching occasionally could be considered a "guilty pleasure," the danger arrives when the pleasure becomes guilty of subtly distracting women from becoming who they are here to become and doing what they are here to do. 

Here’s the thing, the noisier our external world becomes, the more imperative it is to embrace inward silence. Personal growth, spiritual development and moving forward along our uniquely defined paths are all aspects of an inside-out process. 

Meditation, the practice of sitting alone quietly, going within and connecting with that part of us that reveals to us who we are, what we’re here to do and how to make it happen, is an extremely powerful, increasingly important part of a well-lived life. 

Interested in learning to meditate? Join Michelle Hollinger, host of The Sisterhood Exchange radio show, which airs Wednesdays at 8:30pm, for The Butterfly Excursion - a 6-week journey that will teach you to meditate in a way that suits your personality, show you how to dissolve the fear that is blocking your progress, guide you on how to create a vision board to expedite the achievement of your goals; and so much more. 

The Sisterhood Exchange

I see her on the screen,
on the job,
on the street;
Head held high, 
her eyes smile and see clearly through the bright light she casts.

She has danced with many partners;
fear,
rejection,
And at least one of the "isms;"
They now follow her lead.

I return her glance with smiling eyes,
whisper a brief thanks to Him for her,
silently transmit a warm 'you go girl,'
and bask in the glow of our mutual lights,
each strengthening the other through the energy exchange called sisterhood.

Michelle Hollinger is the author of The Sisterhood Exchange. Purchase a copy at michellehollinger.com.

Jealousy or admiration?

The feeling commonly known as jealousy may actually be admiration in disguise. 

In order to understand how the two can be confused, it is necessary to accept that, from a spiritual perspective, we are all connected. Now consider that within us is a human mechanism that triggers a visceral response when we encounter a person who possesses a quality that we believe ourselves to be lacking. Even if the so-called jealousy is about some material possession, the visceral response is to the human quality that made the acquisition of the material possession possible.

Here’s where the fine line between jealousy and admiration begins to blur. 

We’re not actually lacking the quality. Spiritually speaking, the only way for us to notice the quality in someone else is for us to also have it within ourselves. Its seed is within us waiting for us to spend valuable time with it; to water it and nurture it so that it blossoms into what it is intended to become. Because we have not paid it the attention that it deserves, seeing it in full bloom in someone else reminds us subconsciously where we’re slacking and that produces the feeling commonly known as jealousy.

  

We’ve been conditioned to respond to our triggers in this manner and in this manner alone; but it produces no benefits. Actually, continuing to respond this way is easy, but stressful. Easy because it requires nothing from us; stressful because it guarantees jealousy remains a permanent fixture in our lives.

Shifting from the toxic, energy-sapping emotion that jealousy is to the expansive, life-affirming quality of admiration requires that we spend some time exploring and taking ownership of our triggers. It requires searching within for the quality seed that is awaiting our attention; and deciding whether to roll up our sleeves to water it or allow it to shrivel by maintaining our status quo. 

It also requires a willingness to admit (at least to ourselves) that we actually admire the person in possession of the quality; which means our ego has to take a backseat. Admiration is not for the faint at heart. It is a big, powerful quality because inherent in admiration is gratitude to the person for triggering an inner awareness that could serve as a springboard to a greater life.

Michelle Hollinger is the author of The Sisterhood Exchange. Purchase a copy at michellehollinger.com. 

He didn't raise me, but I am my daddy's girl

My daddy did not raise me. My parents split up when I was a little girl. Ma returned to South Florida where her family lived and my daddy remained in Newark, making house with his new/old family. 

I went through the stages of grief that come along with not having him present in my life. I went from anger to anger to even more anger before I slid into an indifference that lasted for several years.

In college, I figured he had grown up and realized the error of his ways, so I reached out in a way that I thought was fitting for a daughter to approach an estranged father – I asked him for money. 

My daddy sounded as though this was a telephone conversation that we’d been having regularly throughout my college experience, not the first time that we’d spoken in years. He told me that he would wire the money to me later that day – only he never did. When I was able to get him on the phone again, days later, he told me some cockamamie story about being mugged, robbed of the very money he was planning to send to me. I made a mental note that he was never to be trusted again. 

My daddy died a few years later, in the summer of 1988, and his death marks the true beginning of my relationship with him.

I grew up during a time where children were seen and not heard, so asking questions about why my daddy did not step in to care for me after my mother died in 1974 was not happening. I did not dare interject  “well how come this nice guy wasn’t there for his little girl,” when I’d hear relatives go on and on about what a great guy Clint was, how Clint was there for so many people and how great it was to hang out with him.

After his death, I was determined to find out who this Clint fellow was that so many of his family and friends loved so dearly.

Thankfully, because I grew up and realized the error of my ways I was able to stop making his absence in my life all about me. I began to consider that my daddy couldn’t give to me what he couldn’t give to himself. 

My daddy slowly drank himself to death after years of alcoholism. Though I have yet to discover the source of his pain, my daddy used alcohol to numb it and allow him to function. His volatile relationship with my older brothers is still unexplained and the unraveling of his marriage to my mother haunted him even after she was buried, despite his other relationship.

I’d convinced myself that some of the traumatic things that happened to me would not have happened had my daddy been a bigger part of my life. I was certain that his presence would have deterred some of the so-called trustworthy men in my family from even thinking about touching me. I told myself that the confidence that I was so lacking and my reluctance to take a risk would have been buoyed by my daddy’s presence; but I’m not so sure.

What if everything happened exactly as it was supposed to happen? What if the compassionate, smart and private woman that I am today had to experience everything exactly as I did in order for this exciting chapter in my life to unfold?

What if the desire to forgive my daddy and the wonderful life lessons that I learned along the way served as my blueprint on forgiving the seventy times seven that Jesus advises? What if my ability to forgive my daddy was the most surefire way to forgiving myself for putting him on a pedestal that he did not choose and demanding from him what he could not give? 

I have arrived at a sacred sweetness in my spirit whenever I think of Daddy. I don’t have all of my questions answered, and though I’d love to know more, I’ve gotten beyond the “coulda, woulda, shouldas” that a commitment to regret requires. 

I’m OK with believing that Daddy can see my heart now and is resting peacefully in the assurance that I am definitely his girl. 

Michelle Hollinger is the author of The Sisterhood Exchange. Purchase a copy at michellehollinger.com.

Power Nap

Some days my feelings threaten to immobilize me, lay me out with a justification that an afternoon nap is the only cure. On occasion, I give in to that part of me committed to being gentle with me; that part of me that knows that loving me is the best remedy for anything. 

I dismiss my whiner voice determined to label this respite as lazy, and embrace, instead, my winner voice that’s ready to speak truthfully and openly, sometimes uncomfortably; but with a discomfort that transforms to honor as it reveals hidden treasure. 

On those days, I take a long, slow look at myself, at my life, at where I am and I question, ever so gently, if this current spot is actually the best place for me. Wisdom has delivered acceptance that where I am right now is where I am supposed to be; however, courage whispers that where I go from here, from this now moment is best determined by what I allow to surface, now.

I nudge myself into exploring whether settling or playing small have coaxed me to this place. I look, with as nonjudgmental a glance as possible, at whether people-pleasing or a preoccupation with what “they” will think factored into my arrival here; and suddenly I am overtaken by immense gratitude for all of the telltale, nap-inducing feelings – feelings that must emerge because their job is to lull me into divine slumber – to put me on my back - not to really sleep - but to awaken.  

Michelle Hollinger is the author of The Sisterhood Exchange. Purchase an autographed, hard copy edition at michellehollinger.com.

Untouchable YOU

There is a part of you, deep within you, that has never and will never be harmed.

Despite experiences that tell you otherwise, despite feeling pain that you considered insurmountable, despite having been immersed in what feels like the most horrific, unshakeable darkness, there exists a space within you that remains untouched, pristinely protected and patiently awaiting your discovery of its presence.

The addictions that you plagued you, that you scrapped with, felt beaten down by and tried over and over to discard, were merely placeholders; temporary buffers that kept you in a “comfort zone” until you were ready for your “real zone;” only accessed in silence. It is the zone that is that sacred space within you, untouchable you.

Michelle Hollinger is the author of The Sisterhood Exchange. Purchase a copy at michellehollinger.com.