This is a Rebirth.
I'm not saying your beauty is obvious. I'm not sure if it's a cocoon or a chrysalis you are wrapped in. Or if what I call it makes any difference in your world, dear. I doubt it. But for weeks, in the warm scarf I tied on the tree outside of this house, you have been inside of your own change, incubating in the deep dormancy of a being caught between her Self. And it's not always pretty. And you may feel and look nothing like you were or will be. And you aren't doing what you used to do. And, you can't. Not anymore. You're not made of the same skin stuff. And it can feel like you're hanging on precariously. And like one good shake can knock you loose and drop you into free fall. You don't know if you're gonna fly by day. Or if you're gonna fly by night. You don't know what kind of creature you're dealing with yet. You don't know who you are becoming. Hell, you don't even know what flying is. It was somewhere beyond your vision. But while hanging here, suspended in the dark womb of your own transformation, surrounded by something that holds you even as you surrender all you've known... Remember this. What looks like nothing is everything. There is still soft ground somewhere, waiting beneath you. But when you get there, you won't need it. Not nearly as much as you used to. This is a rebirth. You'll emerge with more ways, my dear, to move on this earth.