Today, Labor Day, was fabulous. This morning I finished a house sitting/dog sitting gig. And whereas I had to pick up shit (off the carpet), I didn’t step in any (like I did the other day). I consider this a win. Funny how your standards change. Anyway, after packing up, I had lunch–barbecue chicken nachos and beer–with some friends. Then I came home and unpacked. Y’all, this took a while. Whenever I house sit, even if it’s only for a few days, I bring so much stuff–a bag full of clothes, my own water filter, my own cast iron frying pan (because cast iron is supposedly better for you than aluminum is).

Finally, I got everything put away. Everything back in its place.

This evening I taught a dance lesson, and afterwards washed my car, Tom Collins. Since acquiring Tom over two years ago, I’ve made an concerted effort to keep him clean, but alas, he’s nonetheless gotten quite filthy this summer. As I just said, I’ve been toting a lot of stuff around, as well as mowing a few lawns. Plus, it’s been raining a good deal. Consequently, Tom has been dirty, dirty, dirty inside and out. And whereas I’ve been telling myself I’m too busy to clean him up, today I decided the rest of the world could wait. I thought, It’s more important for me to feel good.

I mean, who doesn’t feel better driving a clean car?

I’ve heard some people say the secret to success is making your bed every day. I’m not sure that I believe it’s that simple, but I do think there’s something to it. That is, whenever my room is tidy or my car is clean, I feel calmer, like there’s order in the world. Conversely, whenever things are a mess, it’s like I wake up in chaos, drive to work in chaos, and–on some level–feel chaos everywhere I go. I’m always saying that the inside affects the outside, but there’s both truth and magic in the idea that the outside affects the inside. This is why how a space is organized and decorated influences your mood. This is why feng shui is a thing.

So go clean something. Feel better now.

This evening I helped some other friends run speaker wire in a store they’re helping to open. This involved two of us on a ladder attaching wire to metal trusses with zip ties and one of us down on the ground feeding the wire. Well, at one point I noticed that the dust on our hands was getting the recently painted trusses dirty, so I grabbed some rags from my car so we could wipe the trusses down. And get this shit–when I went to my car I noticed an absolutely beautiful yellow and brown moth (an Imperial Moth, I found out later) hanging out on the hood of Tom Collins.

Spoiler alert, it may have been dead. (It didn’t fly off when I drove home later, but rather got “swept away.”)

For the last few weeks while painting I’ve been listening to lectures by Stephan A. Hoeller, a gnostic mystic. In one of his talks he says that the point of life or one’s spiritual journey is not to change but rather to transform. This process of transformation, he says, is often compared to a caterpillar becoming a butterfly or moth–because the old must die in order to make way for the new. He further explains that when a caterpillar morphs into a butterfly or moth, it doesn’t simply sprout wings. Rather, during the pupa stage, it literally dissolves itself using its acidic stomach juices and becomes what Hoeller says is “a black goo” and what the internet says is a mass of imaginal or undifferentiated cells (or cells that can become anything–er–anything like a heart or liver, not anything like Liza Minelli.). It is from this black goo that the butterfly eventually emerges.

My point in sharing this example of transformation is twofold. First, if you really want to live up to your highest potential, know that it’s messy business. Between what you are and what you’ll become, there’s the black goo part. In alchemical terms, it’s called putrefaction–the dissolving of your old life (your old thoughts, viewpoints, habits, and patterns). As I’m always saying, it’s not fun. I wouldn’t recommend it. Better said, I wouldn’t recommend STAYING in this phase. How would one stay in the black goo phase? Easy–keep hanging on to your old life. Keep insisting you’re a caterpillar. Keep insisting you’ll never fly.

My second point is that any true transformation is whole and complete. Now, this doesn’t mean that if you’re on The Path you’re guaranteed to lose a hundred pounds or go from rags to riches. The transformation I’m promoting involves more than just working on the outside. It involves more than making your bed every day, although, granted, these activities might jumpstart or support in internal transformation. But back to true transformation being whole and complete. This means that it touches every area of you life. It means every area of your life will–most likely–be turned upside down (the black goo part) IN ORDER TO BE put back together in a better fashion. Jesus said, “Behold, ALL THINGS are become new” and “Except a man be BORN AGAIN, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” This means you–the old you, the caterpillar you–has to die first.