Late Middle English: via Latin from Greek metamorphōsis, from metamorphoun ‘transform, change shape’.
I had a thought just now. Or, several trails. It went something like, “no matter how many times I manage to fall out of love with my reality, I always manage to come back to it after some river bends”. So far, each time knowing, feeling, and radiating all the stronger. Who I am and what I seem to be here, upon this green blue messy mess of a planet, to do. The whole damn thing is that the more life I get to live the more I seem to learn the beauty of greys (especially lately… Oh my god, the magic and intensified growth lately…) The colour grey is neither black or white, neither night or day. It is balanced amidst mess. If living is elemental alchemy, I now seem to be able to tune in more evenly to several elements simultaneously, as opposed to say, playing with fire only, I’m allowing myself to keep the flame alive and kickin enough to shed light. Earlier, I could eagerly let it combust a whole forest, haha! Just to feel alive. To feel potent and purposeful. While that may not feel very practical (like easy grey living for example), it definitely has it’s time and place, letting ourselves be shaken to our core and reborn. Some phases need to be like that. Exploding. Hurricane. Earthquaking. Tsunami….
Becoming yourself is a lesson in learning how to balance.