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Transformation

  • Writer: allymmmounga
    allymmmounga
  • Jan 4, 2021
  • 8 min read

I have these things. They stay for eight or nine months usually, drawing me close to everything that is to do with them. One of them is always a fruit. In Horticulture class last semester, I learned that there are names for different kinds of fruits. Peaches, plums, and cherries are drupes. How do I know? Because they have a little crease that looks like a little bum, and little bums always seem to have drooping pants. When my professor taught us that way to remember, my heart hummed. I loved that; forever, I've just adored fruits, taken them as symbols of myself. They are the first doodles that appear on my class notes, the same colors that I choose in sundresses and book covers. The stars of my favorite songs:


You are my peach

You are my plum

You are my Earth

You are my Sun

I love your fingers

I love your toes

The back of your head

The tip of your nose


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And then he taught us about pomes. "A pome is fruit that looks like it has a belly button." A pome: a fruit sounding like poem and with a little belly button miracle.


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Could there be anything more lovely to me, a girl who falls for poems and finds belly buttons to be the most charming little thing about humanity? I fell in love with that. Fruits; drupes and pomes and berries, I belong to them. So, I always have a thing for some kind of fruit.


From the Spring of 2018 to sometime the following year, it was cherry--cherry milkshakes, cherry earrings. Sarah save me a skirt that she'd sewn and painted cherry pairs on. I was the cherry girl. Then, a strawberry lover, not so publicly. I just resembled a strawberry, more soft, sweetbitter, more spring than summer. And just now, in the last few months, blueberries have been my thing. Everything has turned navy and violet: the journal I've been filling with wishes and memories. Blue has never been my color, but it's coming with me for a while, drawing me to blueberry colored dresses, flavored lemonades, everything.


It started with a blog post back in November, "A Very Blue Berry."

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Late into the night a few days prior, I'd been in the thick of it, backstroking through big feelings, blue feelings, and for some reason, writing on paper wasn't much of an option, so I opened up a google doc and gave it that title. I was feeling very blue, and I had always been called "Berry" (That's where the whole fruit thing started). Underneath that name, I twisted the cap off of my blueberry lemonade heart, and spilled its ichor all over the floor, the page, wherever. I haven't opened the doc since, it wasn't meant to be looked back on, it was simple for release. But soon after, I felt the desire to make a blog post filled with the emotions of the same heartache, unzipping myself and letting all of the hurts fall out, then putting new wishes in their place and zipping up. I wrote a letter to my new home, the apartment that I'd be moving into soon, and that's where blueberry life began.


You see, everything up here in this sweet, little home that's becoming filled with more and more of my silly fridge magnets and fridge paintings--Moroccan oils--and shoes--will always be associated with blueberries. This is my blueberry life, the era when I first moved up to school, where blue and grey and white cover campus, flags, and sweatshirts in every supermarket. It's a college town, and the college's color is blue. I'm in love with it. Blueberry everything in Blueberryville.


Blueberries are my thing.

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I moved from the cherry girl to the strawberry girl to the blueberry girl. And so much has moved with me. That's what this post is really about: the changes.


Lately, I've also had a thing for butterflies. They're something that could have been a fairytale like unicorns and pixies. The way that they shift from wormy squirmy to flutter fairy is something magic. I love magic, and I think that everyone and everything is a collection of magics. Our bodies--the way they turn sugar into fuel, the way they create life--our minds--the way that they turn ideas into physical, tangible things--the way that trees sleep for winter--the way that horses just know things, and dogs can tell when we're sad--it's all magic. We just call it science.


Transformation is the mystical topic of today. Butterflies have always gone hand in hand with that word; they've become cliché because they're too good of an analogy. So I'm not going to give you the butterfly comparison, but it makes sense that I've been drawn to them in this season of life. At the same time that I've been drawn to blueberries, the fruit of my surroundings, I have been drawn to butterflies, the fruit of transformation.


What are these transformations? That circles back to another post of the past: "The Year of Signs." Just about a year ago, that one went up, and has always been my very favorite post. It reads much like a story, full of quirky characters. In that story, I mentioned that my word of the year 2019 was "resonate." It certainly was. And looking back on this last year, I think that the word that led up to my word of the year, the Adam to my Eve, was "weather." Yes, I spent hours looking out the window at the weather of every season, pondering it, running outside and playing in it! But it's the verb that really got me. I weathered sunny, summer days at the pool in my thriving routine and bitter, chilly heartaches in the fall. My personal life this year was full of monumental change. I experienced the (often involuntary) end of several eras, and that is where transformation came.


Transformation was my word of the year.


My little prophecy on The Year of Signs came true. There were signs everywhere: angel numbers, asking questions in prayers or meditations and getting physical answers on billboards in passing or conversations with friends, stumbling upon something on my feed, and more. It was miraculous. Before falling asleep at night, I would ask to receive certain answers in my dreams, and it would work. The signs led me through my butterfly changes. They led the way and told me where to go.


In the winter time, I consciously decided to improve upon my independence, because I was aware that my attachments to people were leaving spaces in my happiness. At that point, I often felt like something was missing from me, so I chose to work on it through affirmations and emotional habit changes. I chose to give my hobbies and passions more attention, to find fulfillment in my time alone and my pursuits of self expression, and to go out with friends to the loveliest of places (Velour especially). I grew independent. It worked. That was a transformation.



When spring came around, I felt that spark of desire to take on something new, so I went to my journal and got to work, setting goals, building daily habits and routines. I got moving: doing yoga, meditation, workouts, walks, journal writing, and reading. And those efforts definitely paid off; the physical movement had me feeling physically amazing, and the inner work had me elevating vibrationally. It was just magic. It felt good. Pretty soon into that shift, I was leaving my job at Dairy Queen and beginning my job at the bakery, graduating from high school and going on a sunshine trip with my friends, chopped my hair: fresh new start.




Over the summer, I honed in on creation, spent lots of time on my blog, on reading, on lying in the grass of the pasture and looking out at the mountains that surrounded me on every side, and on enjoying life. I continued that spring pattern of personal elevation and felt so fulfilled: happy as could be with the present, started nannying, and lived in my bikini at the pool. It was a splendid summer. At the end, an old flame appeared at my doorstep. We were instantly inseparable, in love as could be. It was the happiest time of my life up until then. Just after that, I jetted off to Oregon with momma, Moose, and GG, where I discovered the rose garden that I've been called to return to since.



Then fall came and it all fell apart. After two years of being consumed by each other, it was finally over for good. So I spent the fall healing, reflecting on the truths of my life and where and what to do in the future. The fall was rough, raw, emotional, full of tears and debilitating heartache, but I'd put my ratty-tatty jeans on and drive to Lakeshore to feed the horses. Pictures weren't taken much. I was a blue berry. Really, the first couple weeks after the breakup, I woke up in cold sweats and couldn't eat. At one moment, I'd been completely intertwined with someone, making big plans, and in the next moment, it was over. And I did everything right: let every feeling and thought wash over me. It was painful, but it was the only way for me to heal and move on entirely.



And it worked. Winter was a dream. The past had no hold on me as I made new friends with an angel named Jenna and her curly, cutie pups, discovered Peace On Earth coffee shop, moved to Blueberryville and made best friends, had a sushi roll called First Kiss, and then some first kisses over little flings during Christmas break, created a new routine and tuned back into my high vibration, started the New Year with sparkling cider and fireworks on a snowy night in the mountains, laughing and listening to hits from the 2000s, moved mom into her RV, stayed in my childhood home, and woke up to my baby cousins with hugs and kisses--ready to play Barbies and be silly. Peaks of excitement, peace, and pure joy have lit me up like a firefly.




It all came full circle. I learned to be independent and happy on my own. I manifested incredible things. I found out more about myself than ever before, built spectacular friendships and relationships with lovely people, and overcame some truly tricky emotional situations. All in all, it was a lovely, lovely year of growth.


But what's in store for this year?


A few days ago, a message from my dreamy, old friend, Cass, flew in:


"Hey Als! I haven't talked to you in awhile and you're my favorite person to talk goals with, soooo 2020 is wrapping up and I wanna know your desires and wishes for 2021! What's your word of the year, what manifestations do you have, what will your vision board look like?"


I wasn't quite sure what my desires and wishes and words and vision board looked like until today. A few of them came out in my last post, a quick list of resolutions Here's a bit more info:


Vision Board looks like...



I have big dreams and ambitions for the year 2021. My mornings have been spent in deep thought about what's to come. I've been writing about my manifestations and plans.


My top 5 goals for this year:


  1. To be 5D, to radiate love and bring/create loving energy in all situations. Transcend.

  2. To continue to love and care for my body. This is my dream body, baby!

  3. To continue creating vulnerable and enlightening blog posts.

  4. To find flowers on my doorstep.

  5. To write a novel.

Let's see how this goes.






(Vision Board photo links:)

Baby blue girl at the flower stand: https://tmblr.co/ZLbzSXY_ktq38q00

Pink Drinks (I don't drink, but they sure are pretty): https://www.pinterest.com/pin/812899801489294499/


 
 
 

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