What if who I hoped to be was always me?

It’s been a minute since I’ve published anything. 23 months to be precise. It feels like nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.

My last post was titled “What happens in the middle of transformation?” Appropriate fucking title John. Collectively and individually we’re in the middle of the transition from the old story to the new. Two years later and I can finally start to answer this question for me individually. In the middle of transformation is a lot of beauty, magic, synchronicity, tragedy, shit sandwiches, heart break, and grief mixed in with some of the most challenging years of my life.

I’m really proud of how I showed up at certain times. I am also ashamed of others. I needed to get my ass kicked by the universe, to get humbled and to find whole new levels of surrender that I didn't even know existed. I’ve had a powerful vision inside of me for years and I’ve been too afraid to take a stand for it. I don’t even like typing that let alone the thought of publishing it, yet here we are.

This past weekend, I was in the middle of a solo meditation retreat to work on a few things, and I heard a song that I’ve heard many times before. But this time it hit different. This is the opening line:

“What if who I hoped to be was always me?”

I’ve been in the middle of this transformation for years, but what if I’m already who I’m trying to transform into? What if I am already the butterfly? What if who I hoped to one day be is already me right now in this exact moment? Yeah John, what if?

I still have a long way to go on this journey, a lot more to learn and even more to embody. A lot of questions and only a few more answers than I’ve previously had access to.

And.

I’m already exactly where I need to be. Exactly who I need to be. Doing exactly what I need to be doing. And that is enough.

What happens in the middle of transformation?

“There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.”

One of my all-time favorite quote, a true gem from Buckminster Fuller and certainly one of the best ways I've heard to describe the process of transformation.

I've been immersed in the world of transformation for years: studying, witnessing, supporting, challenging and undergoing several of my own. All that is to say, I know a good transformation when I see one.

We are collectively in a very particular part of a transformation process known for its incredibly technical term: "the middle."

The beginning of a transformation starts with awareness.

The awareness tells us that old story is no longer acceptable.

The end of course is beautiful butterfly.

But. The new story is not yet here. No butteryfly.

From that place of awareness and rejection of the old, we enter "the middle" which is where we are today. We're not a caterpillar anymore. And we're not a butterfly yet. We're in the cocoon phase. It may look and feel like nothing is going on, but massive changes are happening.

This transformation is happening at the societal level. We are collectively rejecting the old stories. We have ideas and visions for what the new stories could look like. We want to be there. And yet we're not.

Interestingly and not surprisingly, I find myself in the middle (to end, hopefully?) of a personal transformation, and the company I just started working with also happens to be in the middle. Old story no longer serves. New story not yet here.

In a world of an ever increasing desire for instant gratification, it's critical to understand that there are no shortcuts in transformation. Trust me. I've tried. And failed. Many times.

We are in the middle. Trust that massive changes are happening. Be patient and loving with ourselves and those who haven't spent as much time in the cocoon. Continue to put in the work so that we can emerge anew as a beautiful butterfly.

Why is everything a paradox these days?

So much chaos amidst so much stillness.

So much is ending just as so much new is beginning.

So much has changed and yet so much remains the same.

So much suffering and also so many beautiful gifts and opportunities.

So much death completing the natural cycle to allow for a more fertile rebirth.

These seemingly paradoxical situations surround us every day. They feel even more pronounced these days, but they are nothing new.

Whether we choose to look at the positive side or the negative side, we are still missing half of the equation. Can we hold both sides in equanimity, balancing both the certain and the uncertain, as we begin to take steps forward?

Which version am I?

Two businesses running in-person events in NYC. One is shut down and sitting on the sidelines. The other moved to online events and is busier than ever.

Two versions of John. One shuts down and sits on the couch waiting for sunny skies. The other knows that there's never been a better time to be an entrepreneur, puts on his old shoes and goes to play in the mud puddles.

Neither is right or wrong. One is not better than the other. And sometimes we are both.

Couch creature. Builder.

This is not a one time choice. It's a moment by moment decision.

It's never about perfection, especially these days. It's about doing the best we can with what we got and where we're at. If 80% of the time I'm building, that feels good. 90% feels better. 95%, yes please.

Don't be too hard on yourself, John. When you get pulled into the couch, know that it's part of the process. And when you get up, know that there are plenty of beautiful, undisturbed puddles just waiting to be stomped.

Is it ok to breathe again?

It feels like my default mode these days is for my body to be in a full-clenched, fight or flight mode. All. Damn. Day.

And honestly, I'm not even a little bit mad about that. It makes sense. That's what it's there for. To protect me during times like these.

But.

It's also not so great for creative work, deep thinking or strategy work.

One of my normal strategies of going for long walks in nature just isn't as relaxing as it used to be when there are so many other people around. So I've had to come up with some ways to let my guard down (when I'm in a fully isolated environment that has been thoroughly disinfected of course).

I've found some good tunes where I can jam out for 5 or 10 minutes and have a little one-man dance party around the apartment. I also do lots of handstands which for some reason helps to be inverted for a bit.

One unique little hack I've found. Whenever I read something on social media that suggests to "take a deep breath" I stop everything I'm doing and take an actual deep breath. It's been a wonderful reminder.

I'm glad to know that 1000s of years of biological programming is still doing it's job. And I'm also thankful for the deep breaths and dance parties during all of the chaos.