Boxer shorts and butterflies
MINDFUL MOMENTS # 136
I apologise for the tardiness of this email correspondence to you, but happy Sunday to you all. I had an exam on Friday morning and, well, you know me, I’m not one for writing this ahead of time. However, I STRONGLY HOPE this will be my last exam ever?! I’ll believe it when I see it - and believe you me, I’ll let you know about it (and more than likely, I’ll write about it, too).
Perhaps the title of this newsletter has bemused you; allow me to explain.
My friend has coined the term ‘boxer short moments’ and I have likewise coined the term ‘butterfly moments’. Short of Kafka’s slightly more terrifying Metamorphosis, these moments are all about transformation into something more beautiful, more learned and more expansive than before.
The story of the boxer shorts is a story of self-worth (thank you for sharing your story, Sam). It’s realising you’ve been wearing underwear with holes in for far too long; it’s the noticing of old patterns that no longer serve you and the - almost guilty, almost shameful - realisation that you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Where can you notice the opportunity for your own boxer short moments? Of course, it’s not really about underwear (who thought we’d be talking about underwear on a Sunday morning in November?), but about what the underwear represents. Where have you been devaluing yourself? In the jumper you wear with all the holes? Perhaps in the less tangible way you feed yourself the same narrative about your apparent short-comings? The point is, if we change one thing, we start to notice all the other boxer short moments. We start this ripple effect - not just through our underwear drawer - but through our surroundings and the things - and people - we choose to surround ourselves with. We’re not upgrading ourselves, we’re just meeting ourselves where we are now. We’re aligning ourselves with our values.
(I wouldn’t normally promote blatant consumerism but in the case of underwear, I’m not sure it’s something one should get second hand. If only I knew how to darn my socks.)
…which takes us to our butterfly moments.
Perhaps more transparently, these are moments of growth and transformation. We move through the darkness of the cocoon, trusting that we will emerge as brighter, more vibrant and expansive versions of ourselves. It’s the result of channelling Michael Singer in The Untethered Soul and staying open, instead of closing. I think I talked about this in the reflection I did after the London Marathon, but one of my favourite quotes when I’m running is ‘the moment we want to give up is also the moment we transform’. That fork in the road is immensely powerful; it’s drunk with its own potential: the moment we want to give up but don’t is the very moment we transform.
It’s one of my earliest school memories, sitting in reception class and looking at pictures of the life cycle of a butterfly. The beauty of the metamorphosis is just as captivating now as it was then.
We all love transformation. I grew up on 60-Minute Makeover, Gok Wan’s 10 Years Younger and reruns of The Princess Diaries. There’s something deeply, inherently satisfying about transformation. Twenty years later, I’m still just as thrilled by BBC’s Sort Your Life Out.
But butterfly moments run much more deeply than wallpaper and wrinkle-reduction. When things feel really difficult, know that you’re in a butterfly moment; I’m not sure the caterpillar knows it’s in the cocoon when all it sees and feels is darkness.
Mindful moment: Looking back, can you notice those moments of transformation? Are you in one now? Do you have faith in yourself that you will emerge from this? Can you, by noticing the tiniest of boxer short moments, put yourself on the path for deep personal growth? Or perhaps, we just need to meet ourselves where we are now.
YOGA
REFLECT
“There’s so much to be grateful for, I’d run out of ink”
I always finish the yoga class on Saturdays with a practice of gratitude. I wish I could say I’m one of those people who write a daily gratitude journal, but it’s not something that’s caught on yet…However, I’m finding little pockets of time to practise it and having this weekly practice is a step in the right direction at least.
Mindful moment: When you think about it, there really are almost infinite things we can be grateful for. We may have to scrape the barrel after ten or so, but it almost seems to catch itself in a self-perpetuating motion: once we realise we’re grateful for socks (always), we realise we can also be grateful for the feet that slip into them; then we can be grateful for gloves; jewellery that reminds us we are loved. These are all worthy of sitting alongside the bigger, less tangible foundations of our life: safety, shelter, warmth. Keep going until you run out of ink.