
Caterpillar soup
When Lisa Fierer and I were talking, she shared something about caterpillars that completely surprised me.
When a caterpillar goes into its chrysalis, it does not simply grow wings and emerge as a butterfly.
First, it turns into soup.
Caterpillar soup.
Apparently, transformation is even messier than I thought.
Tom actually Googled it while we were filming because I needed to know if that was true.
Yep.
Soup.
Lisa called it a holy mess, which feels right.
At the time, I mostly thought, “Wow, that’s fascinating.”
But when I rewatched the conversation, I realized the metaphor applied to me more than I understood in that moment.
Lisa’s story is much bigger and harder than mine. She grew up in a home where she never remembers feeling safe. As a teenager, her father murdered her mother. After that, her life did not unfold neatly.
Of course it didn’t.
She escaped through books, then sugar, then alcohol. She became a teenage alcoholic at 12. She carried rage she did not yet know how to handle. And later, through therapy, recovery, yoga, writing, and just enough willingness, she found her way toward forgiveness.
Not the easy kind.
Not the pretend-it-didn’t-happen kind.
The kind that required her to look honestly at what happened, what she did with her pain, and who she wanted to become.
At one point, Lisa said she was 49% belligerent and 51% willing.
One of my mentors says you just need to get the anchor 2 inches off the bottom.
She did not need to be 100% graceful, enlightened, or thrilled about changing.
She only needed to be slightly more willing than unwilling.
That 2% mattered.
I do not have Lisa’s story, but the caterpillar soup image gave me language for what this Unexpected Happiness season feels like.
I think Unexpected Happiness is in the soup stage.

My soup includes a YouTube channel that is barely growing but is filled with guests who inspire me every time I interview them or rewatch their videos.
It includes this weekly email that I genuinely love writing.
It includes learning how to write a book, which means figuring out who my reader is, what she needs, and how I can serve her.
It includes learning how to become a group coach, building a LinkedIn presence, practicing outreach, teaching my first session, and trying to understand what all of this wants to become.
Right now, it does not feel like one beautiful, blended cream soup.
It feels more like I threw a carrot, a rutabaga, a tomato, some celery, and a handful of basil into a pot and walked away.
Nothing has simmered yet.
Nothing has been blended.
Several ingredients may still need to be chopped.
But something is happening.
And every once in a while, I get a little reminder that the soup is worth making.
A friend left me a voicemail this week saying the emails have been touching her at exactly the moment she needs them.
That filled my heart up so big.
Because that’s the whole point.
Lisa wrote her book, Thirst, because it was the book she needed when she was younger.

I am trying to create the work I wish someone had handed me 10 or 20 years ago.
Something that would have told me I did not have to change my whole life or become a totally different person to start feeling better every day.
Of course, if someone had handed it to me back then, I may have said, “That’s lovely, but have you seen my to-do list?”
So I get it.
But I also know how much it would have helped.
That’s why I am asking more questions right now. I created a short survey to understand what the women I want to serve are really struggling with, what they want, and what would actually help them.
If you are willing to share your thoughts, I would be so grateful.
You do not need to be in a dramatic transformation to have your own version of caterpillar soup.
Maybe you are trying to go back to the gym after years away.
Maybe you have kids getting ready to go to college.
Maybe you are trying to buy your first home.
Maybe you are changing the way you talk to yourself when you make a mistake.
If it feels messy, that does not mean it is wrong.
It may just mean something is becoming.
And maybe you do not need to be 100% ready.
Maybe 51% willing is enough.
With love,
Ariel


