Catalyst moments (re)visit us to warn us that it is time for change, inviting us to metamorphose our being in search of the necessary (re)connection with inner peace, or who knows, to find in the wisdom of butterflies the freedom we desire. , to bare our worn-out armor, worn out and weighed down by the shocks of life, to recharge with our genuine essence what we were swallowed up by the existential emptying of the agonizing debate of the uncritical massification that does not represent us and that leaves behind the suffocating clothing that hugs us masked , conveying the farewell of what can no longer be. Transmutations happen to move forward. If not unharmed, perhaps more conscious.
