Hello,
And welcome to a meditation,
Becoming the Butterfly.
This is guided for rest,
Transformation,
And gentle flight.
My name is Lee Anderson.
Welcome.
I'm so glad you're here.
This is your cocoon moment,
A sacred little pause in the middle of it all,
A space to rest,
To breathe,
And to feel yourself becoming.
Not in a rush,
Not with pressure,
But in that quiet way,
Nature always seems to know what to do.
So take a moment to find comfort.
See it or lie down in a way that feels kind to your body,
As you let your hands rest loosely,
Your jaws soften,
And let your breath start to slow.
Not because you're trying,
But because you're safe enough to let it.
You don't need to be anything here.
You can just be.
Breathing in,
And breathing out.
Like the wind moving through soft wings.
And now imagine you are in a cocoon,
Not trapped,
But held,
Warm,
Soft,
And still.
This cocoon is not a prison.
It's a sanctuary.
It's a space between chapters,
The in-between of becoming.
Inside this space,
You don't have to try.
You don't have to perform.
You don't even have to know what's next.
You are allowed to rest here,
To listen,
To soften into the truth that you are already enough,
Even before the wings.
So breathe.
Let the outside world melt away.
Let the shoulds,
The noise,
The pressure to figure it all out,
Fade into the background.
You are safe here.
You are allowed to feel,
And you are allowed to let go.
And maybe as you sit in this cocoon of stillness,
You begin to feel something inside you shift.
A soft stirring,
A quiet readiness,
Not urgent,
Not loud,
But real.
There's a sense that something old has been lived fully.
And something new is ready to begin.
Maybe it's a truth you've ignored,
A softness you've buried,
A strength you've underestimated.
Whatever it is,
It's rising.
You begin to imagine your wings,
Not perfectly symmetrical,
Not flawless,
But entirely yours.
Wings shaped by everything you've moved through,
The tears,
The joy,
The pauses,
The mess,
The beauty.
Your wings are ready when you are.
There's no rush,
But they are there,
Folded gently inside you,
Waiting to stretch.
So take a breath and gently,
Slowly begin to open.
You feel the cocoon soften and peel back.
The light touches your skin.
You feel the air,
The openness,
The possibility.
And then you emerge,
Not as someone new,
But as someone true.
You step forward slowly.
You notice others,
Butterflies too,
Resting on branches,
Flying gently in spirals around you.
No competition,
No comparison,
Just a shared understanding.
We are all learning to fly in our own way.
You lift your wings,
Not to escape,
Not to impress,
But because you can.
And you take off slowly,
Gracefully.
The breeze holds you.
The light dances across your wings.
You are not trying to be beautiful.
You simply are.
You fly above the landscape of your life,
Looking down with love,
Even at the hard parts.
You see it all.
And you carry none of it like a burden anymore.
Only the wisdom stays with you.
Only the lightness.
You are free now.
You are safe to be soft,
Safe to shine,
Safe to keep becoming.
So come gently back to your body now.
Back to your breath,
Back to this moment.
And wriggle your fingers,
Roll your shoulders and stretch if that feels good.
And before you open your eyes,
Place one hand over your heart.
Feel that rhythm.
That's you.
Steady.
Alive.
And becoming.
You don't have to rush into the next thing.
You've already taken flight.
Let your breath carry that knowing through the rest of your day or night.
You are grace in motion.
You are worthy of rest and becoming.
And your wings will always remember the way.
Namaste.
