The Park Bench

Another window

The caterpillar changing and trying to figure out how to get out of the "oh so familiar skin" feeling is starting to appear.  The struggle is only against myself.  The environment is pristine at the moment.  People have been so kind and SO generous.  The internal connection to the Divine is ever present, so what is this veil? It feels like some aspect of the story, but what is after the story?  More trips to the surrender pile.  Do I throw myself on the pile as well?  Have I become attached to the story of transformation?  I felt that point of offering to spiritually die yet again.  The response was a stillness instead of a splintering.  Patience?  Being?  The park bench?