what i learn from the cicadas, the fireflies, and the hawkmoths is a lesson i do not want to apply or see come true in my own life. Each of these beings waits a very long time to become the final and most recognizable version of themselves. They wait, eating plants and smaller creatures and hidden in the ground, until they are able to transform into something with wings and new colors, in which body they last for a very short time. Every time someone tells me to trust the process or that i have plenty of time to do the things i want to do, i only feel the fear of waiting in the ground for most of my life, only to be my true and fullest self for a burst of time, one season, before i am gone. These winged beings don’t have very many goals—they eat, be filled, fly, mate, reproduce the species, and die. perhaps it is actually the long waiting before they transform that is good for them. eat and sleep and be yourself in the cool deep dirt. maybe its enough for them to fly free and be so beautiful to the human eye for a short time because they have already done what they wanted to do. they made it to the end.