I have always attempted to hide. When I was in kindergarten, I participated in a play for The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and during the performance I was the only one facing the wall instead of the people. Of course, little did I know that this drew more attention to myself! But five-year-old me could not fathom being perceived by hundreds of unfamiliar faces. As a shy and highly sensitive child, it was such a terror to be a part of the world at large.
This play was my first memorable experience of my effort to, like the caterpillar, disappear into the protection of the chrysalis. Throughout the years, I thought I could be the unassuming creature moving slowly and silently through the earth, never turning into the conspicuous butterfly. But no, that simply wasn’t part of the deal—there is an evolutionary and spiritual contract that states metamorphosis must occur.
Five years ago at the cusp of my life-altering transformation, a man came up to me and said, “Congratulations! It looks like you’ve finally gained your wings,” then proceeded to walk away. I found that interaction bewildering, but in hindsight, it seems to me that I was receiving a channeled message about the upcoming rebirth.
And so I have been learning more about my wings, closely examining the texture, color, and size. Soft and luminescent, each one carries a golden aura. They are painted delicately with watercolors in the palette of a sunrise, soaked in warm light. I have always been aware of them, but they were hidden in the same way that some caterpillars have developing wings tucked inside their bodies. There were years where I wanted to reach inside of myself and violently cut them off. My wings take up space unapologetically and captivate eyes as they glisten. How threatening they are to the one who hides.
When my wings do make an appearance, I am living most authentically as my higher self: creative, lighthearted, fearless, and deeply intuitive. When they are concealed, I shrink and deny my voice and personal power. Lately, as my wings expand, it is becoming uncomfortable for them to be contained inside my body for the majority of the time. I feel them pulling, tugging, twisting. They have outgrown their temporary home within my skin and wish to be seen, used. At night, I have lucid dreams of flying. During the day, yellow butterflies appear in abundance and hover near me. Join us, they whisper in unison.
There is less resistance now, and I have even been letting my wings out in public. When I taught art classes to confront my fear of being seen, they became especially noticeable. My first reaction was to put them away, as it is such a vulnerable experience revealing them to strangers. Yet the playful nature of teaching art kept my wings visible, lighting the room with a comforting glow.
I realized that to expose them was contagious, and I began to see my students’ whimsical wings peek out too as they painted their canvases with abandon, all colorful and delightfully magical. To align with our truest selves can embolden others to do the same, and what a gift it is to witness the unfolding of extraordinary wings everywhere.
But what are wings without flight? In this next phase, I am practicing the act of lifting my feet off the ground, first learning how to levitate. Baby steps. One day I will fly to the top of a hill, California’s redwood trees, and then the highest peak of Mount Everest. Eventually, I will soar across the night sky and plaster constellations on my wings. I will write a love letter to the world with the stars as my ink. And, with glory, I will allow myself to be seen.
“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.” —Rumi
𖤓 Do you have any fears about being seen? What are they, and where do you believe they stem from?
𖤓 Is the fear of being seen preventing you from accomplishing anything that you wish to do?
𖤓What has been your greatest metamorphosis in life so far? Write about each stage.
𖤓 Describe your wings. When do they tend to show up in the world most freely?
Gather the art supplies and create your one-of-a-kind wings! Let this be an intuitive exercise where you play with color, texture, form, and even found objects around the house. Your wings are unique to you, and only you can wear them so brilliantly. After you’re done, share them!
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Absolutely loved this post and I have impatiently anticipated your writing. I definitely appreciated the aesthetics of this topic and also everything you said about it. I also liked to hide, I was very shy, and as long as I did well enough in school, and had my career path all planned out, I was able to hide my wings for quite awhile.
Although "Man can not live on bread alone", that's exactly what I did. Truly all I needed was to feel financial secure, in a job that I enjoyed, and I was able to keep my wings tightly strapped to my back and never had to show them or fly. When I lost that job it was like falling from a space station back to earth, and I HAD to use my wings or I would have landed with a very loud "thud" and very quickly.
Although it can be challenging to use my wings, I think of my wings like a bird's wings: feathered, utilitarian, and the color and patterning itself is utilitarian for camouflage in the natural habitats in which I exist. I have been volunteering at a wildlife rescue, and something interesting that I have noticed is that many birds come in which are fully developed, not injured, and can flap their wings but they don't quite have the strength to lift themselves and fly quite yet.
So we give them their own habitat, they have their own food and water, and this gives them just enough time to strengthen their muscles to learn to fly and once they can fly--and eat and hunt for themselves--we release them into the wild. It's made me think alot about my own experience as a human being and my own wings and growing into my own strength to fly.
You know I've been thinking about this a lot, my fear of being seen and how I must sit down with it. I think what I loved most about this post is how much permission you gave me to notice the subtle and loud ways that life and self are asking me to make myself visible. As a highly sensitive, intuitive, introverted soul, there is so much comfort in easing back into my softness and shining in my own safe spaces. This is a reminder that those spaces are expanding. Thank you for noticing and sharing so freely. I hope you continue to show your wings to us!