Munch & Muse

The art of becoming

Dear Reader,

Dreams inspire my creativity, turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. A rich, metamorphic conversation with Lia last week about synchronicity and memories led me to delve into Carl Jung's active imagination technique. Our shared cosmic resonance inspired a dialogue with a dream character, shaping the foundation of this story. Thank you so much Lia, for kindling this creative spark!

Munch & Muse

Munch was a caterpillar unlike any other. While her family busied themselves with the endless task of munching leaves, she often paused to gaze at the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. A restless stirring filled her tiny heart, though she didn’t know why. It felt as though she didn’t belong in their world. Where her siblings seemed content, she felt like an outsider. “Eat,” her instincts urged her, “Grow.” And she obeyed, yet with every bite, she wondered what lay beyond the branches and shadows.

One day, a strange compulsion overtook her. Munch began to spin, weaving threads of silk that glistened like liquid sunlight. The familiar rhythm of munching leaves was replaced by the swish and pull of her weaving. As the cocoon enclosed her, darkness embraced her, soft and warm. It was here, in the silence, that Munch began to hear whispers – not from outside, but from within.

“You’ve done well, little one,” the voice murmured. It was ancient and soothing, a lullaby from some deep, eternal place. “But it’s time for you to rest now. Let go.”

Munch hesitated. Rest? Let go? She wasn’t sure she understood. The leaves, the forest, her tiny legs – would she lose them all? She felt a pang of fear, sharp as a sudden gust of wind rushing through the branches. “What will happen to me?” she whispered.

“You’ll become something new,” the voice replied. “A part of you will end, but another will rise. You’ll carry forward what matters, and the rest will dissolve like morning mist.” Slowly, with a trembling breath, Munch whispered, “I’m ready.”

As the days faded into timelessness, Munch realised she could choose what to keep and what to leave behind. Her memories of feeling different, of not fitting in, no longer served her. Instead, she embraced the lessons she had learned as a caterpillar – resilience, curiosity, and the courage to keep moving forward, even when she felt out of place.

Within the cocoon, Munch melted, surrendering to the alchemy of transformation. In this in-between state, her memories shimmered, their edges softening. She could no longer taste the leaves or feel the cool earth beneath her, but the lessons remained.

When the moment of awakening arrived, Muse emerged. Her wings, delicate yet strong, unfolded in hues of violet, blue, gold and green - softly shadowed by black – a reflection of all she had absorbed. Gone was the hunger Munch had known; no longer was she bound to the leaves and shadows. Instead, she carried within her a longing to dance with the wind and soar where the sky knew no bounds.

As she took her first flight, Muse felt the wind rushing past her wings – a symphony of freedom and exhilaration. The memories of Munch weren’t fully formed but lived on as whispers of wisdom, guiding her as she navigated this boundless world.

In the quiet spaces between the beats of her flight, Muse noticed an echo of Munch's solitude. The forest she had left behind felt far away, yet a part of it clung to her – a faint shadow of the outsider she had once been.

Among the vast skies, Muse realised she was alone in a different way now – not bound by branches and shadows, but by the endless expanse stretching in every direction. The isolation lingered, not as a burden, but as a quiet reminder of her journey. With each flutter, she resolved to turn this solitude into strength, letting it guide her toward connection – with the wind, with the world, and with herself.

Muse marvelled at her transformation, understanding now the harmony of beginnings and endings. Munch had not disappeared but had become a part of her – a co-creator of this new existence. In every movement of her wings, Muse honoured the one who had come before, knowing they were forever woven together in the tapestry of rebirth.

And so, Muse soared, embodying the delicate art of becoming – of embracing the unknown and discovering the extraordinary within.

Yours in words, Deborah

If my words strike a chord and you feel inspired to dive deeper into my poetry or explore my essays on Jungian thought, I invite you to visit: The Liberated Sheep