Mid life chrysalis

Are you familiar with the term ‘chrysalis’? It’s a word that I’ve always loved and been fascinated by, and is resonating deeply with me now, in middle age. 

The caterpillar transforms into a butterfly while enclosed in a chrysalis, or cocoon for a moth.  It’s a protective covering that allows internal changes.    Initially, a small bag filled with rich fluid, the cells use the fluid to grow a new body, and butterfly wings are fully formed.  The butterfly breaks out of the protective chrysalis, pumping blood into its brand new colourful wings, and flies away.  

This is a fitting metaphor for the coming into being that happens in midlife for humans.  It’s a powerful, transformative and necessary time that can also be dark, hidden, and not pretty.

In the cocoon / chrysalis  of childhood, adolescence and early adulthood we are encased in stuff; layers of learning, growth, finding our place in the world amidst the expectations of others and society.  There’s a lot going on.  It’s messy.  But we can’t emerge fully formed and spectacular without first being in this sticky mess of life.

By the mid way point, we’ve been ‘round a few corners and know the sharp edge of being human.   Nobody lives for 45 years without experiencing some degree of hurt, disappointment, grief and struggle.  

This process of living is how we become whole. In a cocoon, dark and alone, that’s where we get to know ourselves, truly.  Not the version of ourselves seen, influenced and judged by others and society, but the innermost, raw and ugly bits.  

In the chrysalis of mid life, we grow.  We stop being small and hidden. We gather the strength and fortitude to break free and spread our wings,  sharing colour and  beauty with the world.  We take up space. We are noticed.  

The chrysalis may be dark, and messy, and lonely. But it is absolutely necessary for us to become fully formed. It no longer serves it’s purpose when we’ve outgrown it.  Then, staying confined would mean being stuck. We would suffocate, and damage our wings.

For me, this process has been most evident in writing.  As an avid diarist since childhood, I just don’t know how to live without writing about life. I always wrote to make sense of things, trying to understand a world that I often didn’t feel part of. This is why my writing was private, scribbled streams of consciousness.  Writing what I observed, experienced, thought and felt was the only way I could process it.

Now, in middle age, writing has morphed into something that I can't contain in a chrysalis.   It’s just too big and too important to me.   Writing and performing feels like spreading my wings, being seen and heard in the world, and giving something back.

Every time someone responds to my writing, as a smile from the audience or comment that they enjoyed it, my wings beat, making them stronger and lifting me higher.  The colours and patterns of my life become more vibrant and beautiful the more they are seen and shared.

It’s not possible to go back into my cocoon, I’ve outgrown it. 

Interestingly, the word chrysalis is also used to describe a sheltered state or stage of growth.   William Du Bois said that “a budding writer could not emerge from his chrysalis too soon”.

I wasn’t ready before, but 50 years feels like a good length of time.  

Midlife is the time to break free, become fully me, and fly.

Can you see my wings?