Entry #31 • September 1st, 2026

One Ripple at a Time

A few weeks ago, a random video popped up on social media which, annoyingly, caught my attention. But it was actually fascinating to watch, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen a video like it before. Or at least, not that I remembered.

It was a video of a caterpillar turning into a chrysalis.

What fascinated me most was that the video wasn’t sped up. I watched the entire process happen in real time. I think it was around six minutes, but it didn’t feel like it. I was completely engrossed because somehow, it felt new, like I had never actually seen this process before.

I mean, we all know butterflies come from caterpillars. And caterpillars make cocoons or something, right? We “know” the process. I even had the butterfly kits as a kid, where you watch the monarchs emerge from their “cocoon.” (I’ve since learned that moths come from cocoons and butterflies from chrysalises.)

I’m going to personify this caterpillar quite a bit, just to capture how watching it felt in relation to my own life. So hang with me here. Because watching that caterpillar seemingly struggle through this stage of its development felt so relatable.

The video started with the caterpillar hanging upside down from a metal pole. Its body was moving lightly in a rhythmic ripple. Again and again. It reminded me of how we move through life, through challenges or just the day-to-day experiences. We keep moving through it all. Rhythmically. Just like the sun comes up every morning and goes down every evening.

And as the caterpillar hung there through those constant ripples, it was almost as though it was encouraging itself to just hang on. One ripple at a time. Hang in there. Don’t bristle against the ripples, just ride them out.

In those early stages, the caterpillar was holding itself in what appeared to be a killer ab position. The ultimate “crunch.” It looked so strong, holding itself tightly through the ripples. Don’t we all have a strong stage? That place where we hold on tightly and bully our way through whatever life sends our way.

But fairly quickly, that tight “crunch” position started to loosen. Perhaps it was able to relax just a bit. Or rather, perhaps its body had morphed just enough that it could no longer hold that position. We can only be so strong for so long before we may be forced to release some of that strength. Sometimes forced into a bit of submission to life. To the ripples.

But something else had changed, too. The caterpillar’s once-vibrant color was fading. It was looking a little dull. Sometimes, as we navigate life’s ripples, we too may look a little faded. Not nearly as vibrant as we once were, or as others had known us to be.

I watched its body continue with those rhythmic ripples. Then I noticed the upper part of its body becoming more rigid than when the process started. That perfect display of ab strength, of holding its own, had disappeared. Now its body was held in a more rigid position, with far less flexibility. It seemed almost frozen in its tightness.

And somehow, it was still attached to the metal pole despite all the rippling happening within its body. Even so, that attachment was starting to look slightly strained. As we lose our ability to remain agile through life’s ripples, sometimes all we can do is trust that what we’ve anchored ourselves to will hold.

I kept watching in absolute awe. It was obvious something was happening underneath the caterpillar’s skin; it just wasn’t clear what.

When the Old Skin No Longer Fits

And then, to my utter shock, I noticed its skin tearing open along the upper half of its “back.” It looked like a zipper slowly unzipping its skin, yet its head was still intact.

It caused me to pause and wonder: Do we grow out of versions of ourselves as we move through the complexities of life? Even vibrant versions? And as we outgrow a version of ourselves, maybe it’s not that we’re losing our vibrancy. Maybe that version has simply become dull compared to what’s next.

As the caterpillar’s body continued to ripple, I watched its skin unzip further and further. It looked wildly painful, if I’m being honest.

Growing beyond a past version of yourself is painful. There is loss. Loss of what was. Loss of the vibrant beauty. Loss of knowing. Loss of familiarity. And it can be disturbing while equally mesmerizing for others to watch the change.

I kept staring at the caterpillar, shocked, as its skin continued to tear away while what looked like a bright green booger emerged from underneath.

As in, not beautiful.

It was weird looking.

The vibrant, striped caterpillar was being torn away, and in its place was a bright green…something.

I was so caught up in staring at the shocking green booger that I hadn’t noticed the caterpillar’s head was now tearing away as well. It had happened so quickly I nearly missed it. The caterpillar was being completely torn apart by the rhythmic ripples of its own body. Its own set of circumstances.

When you think you’ve been stretched to the max, just hang on. More stretching is coming. You thought everything that could be torn away had been, only to discover there was still more to let go of.

What was equally fascinating was what was happening to the caterpillar’s old skin. It was moving with the rhythmic ripples, shrinking smaller and smaller toward the pole. Toward its anchor point. The skin looked like a stretched accordion slowly closing back up, getting smaller and smaller. With every ripple of movement, it compressed a little more, slowly folding in upon itself.

And what lay beneath that caterpillar’s skin was so plain looking. Nearly one solid color. There were the slightest hints of the caterpillar’s stripes in this new version of what it was becoming, but otherwise, it was unrecognizable.

As the old skin became more compressed around its anchor point, the rippling increased dramatically. This new form of the caterpillar almost seemed anxious to hurry up and shed the past version. It was as though it had a new purpose to get to, and that old skin was in the way.

Its body rippled, and rippled, and rippled. It shook with intensity. I couldn’t believe its little anchor point could hold it so steady despite all the chaos.

The old skin was finally folded up, but that wasn’t enough. It needed it totally gone. I watched as it shook and moved with all its might to kick off that old skin. And once the old skin fell away, it continued to move, almost as though it were stretching itself out in its new form.

Oddly, I saw hope in that. Hope in shedding the old skin and settling into the new. The caterpillar didn’t resist it. It moved through it and into the next stage.

No longer a caterpillar, it had become a chrysalis.

Now it would wait there for a period of time. And then, eventually, it would become yet another version of itself. The version that gets all the glory in this particular animal’s life: a beautiful butterfly.

Somewhere in the Chrysalis

I have felt myself going through my own metamorphosis of sorts over the last couple of years. The last time I felt a shift like this was around the age of 27, a mom of five kids at the time. And before that, it was around the age of 15. Very similar gaps between each of those shifts, right around 12 years. I have no idea if that’s a normal developmental thing, but I do find it fascinating.

The process each time has been similar. Moving beyond what I had known to that point. Letting go of what was. Becoming something new, but not quite knowing what that new version would look like yet.

There is a period of discomfort and uncertainty in between. I’d equate that to the chrysalis stage. It’s uncomfortable morphing into it, and then there is the uncertainty of simply waiting there.

And as I sit here, currently in what feels like the chrysalis between who I’ve been and whatever these next 12 years will hold, there is some grief over what is being left behind. Over what will no longer be. And at the same time, I wait with awe and reverence for what is still to come.

I do have more to write on this, but that will be for a future entry. Today, I simply wanted to give space to the process this caterpillar depicted for us so valiantly.

If you want to watch the exact video I watched, here it is.

I’ll be back in your inbox soon,

-Just Me[gan]