Into the Chrysalis 🐛
Back in mid-May, when I started writing this post, it was going to be about the various ways I participate in professional networks.
I'd just come back from leading SEED:Los Angeles in LA with my cherished ongoing partners, Rebecca Shulman and David Bowles. I was—and still am, to be clear—feeling good about the second iteration of this program for cohorts of folks that manage gallery education programs in their museums.
I was thinking about all the different ways professional networks help so many of us find each other and process together.
It was going to be a post about the competing urges of being an external processor who is getting more introverted with time and who still has the FOMO of wanting to see so many dear professional colleagues while also maintaining the inner energy reserves.
I'm still—and always—here to sing the praises of being connected to many different professional networks. Here's a selection of current ones from my website.
Since I got home from LA, I've worked on conference proposals for three different organizations with eight individual collaborators across five separate sessions.
I’ve been writing conference session proposals and journaling and doing my own private, reflective writing.
But I fell off the wagon of my regular public writing practice.
It got hard to distill ideas into things I wanted to say out loud.
Pulling together a new post felt insurmountable.
My motivation to focus was missing in action.
The world is *waves hands wildly*.
While I’ve been thinking and developing and reflecting, I haven’t had the same motivation to put that thought and reflection out into the world, which is usually a way I love processing… aloud, in public, to share with others.
Instead I've realized that the last month or so has been me entering a caterpillar goop time.
Huh?
OK, backing up and trying to connect all the dots for you here.
Caterpillar goop time
One of the most productive, supportive, and generative spaces I've been in recently is the current cohort of Reimagining Leadership, a program run by Sister Seasons' Rebecca Magee. Since April, we've been an intimate group meeting near-weekly to explore together what leadership lessons we might learn from nature, the body, and each other.
It's been a gentle developing of clarity around what I want my leadership to contain, and one of the more-than-human world metaphors we've talked about is the caterpillar's evolution into a butterfly (or moth… no shade to moths, but they make cocoons whereas butterfly caterpillars make chrysalises).
Specifically, the moment when the caterpillar forms a chrysalis around itself and turns to goo inside it.
Cheers to artist Eva Grello (who I don’t know at all) for this charming illustration of caterpillar soup.
The encased caterpillar secretes enzymes that melt its own body. It literally digests itself into soup. Inside that soup, the one thing that doesn't dissolve are the "imaginal discs" that are specifically coded cells for each part of the adult insect the caterpillar is about to become.
Those imaginal discs then use the protein-rich caterpillar goo to form their intended body parts, and when they've done their work, the butterfly emerges out of its chrysalis.
Pause to appreciate how rich a metaphor this is for so much of our human lives.
Dissolving and trusting that a total transformation will occur.
A few core bits that set the pattern for a new phase.
Abandoning one way of interacting with the world for a new one that is entirely unknown.
Keep pausing.
It's really rich.
OK.
So why am I currently identifying with the gooey caterpillar soup?
Because work isn't quite working for me the way I need it to.
As with many of my fellow consultants in the non-profit world, I've got fewer organizational clients than usual right now. Gee, could there be something going on in the USA that's impacting spending patterns and appetite for change/experimentation in cultural organizations?????
Small business spaghetti tossing
Since I started working for myself three and a half years ago, most of my income has come from organizational client projects, while a smaller-but-growing (but-growing-slowly) portion of my income has come from the work I do with individuals.
I've thrown a lot of spaghetti at a lot of walls in that work with individuals. I've tried the following (cost notations represent how I've pitched them for clients, not what they've cost me):
1-off virtual workshops (low cost)
multi-part virtual workshops (low cost)
day-long in-person retreats (mid cost)
short courses online (mid cost)
quarterly reflection sessions (free)
sharing regular affirmations on social media (free)
email newsletter writing in various formats (free)
1:1 coaching (low-mid cost)
collaborative management training offered with colleagues (low-mid cost)
collaborative virtual workshops offered with colleagues (low cost)
a seasonal membership community (mid cost)
an annual membership community (low-mid cost)
virtual guided art experiences (free & low cost)
virtual conversation sessions around high interest topics (free)
guesting on podcasts (free)
attending and presenting at professional conferences, both in-person and virtual (free to registered conference goers)
offering free creative reflection prompts (free)
And probably some more that I can't recall or pull from my records right now.
Some spaghetti tosses have stuck, including:
My membership community is a beloved space I'm continuing (and likely opening doors to in late summer/early fall, so add your name to the waitlist if you might be interested).
I love the ongoing work I'm doing as part of the SEED Trio with Rebecca and David, which we're planning to develop into a mix of training and community offers.
I’ve led some amazing conference sessions and offerings that have led to new work and new connections and opportunities to be in the world authentically, adventurously, and curiously.
I’ve met and collaborated with some truly wonderful people that have given me new ways of thinking about the world and helped me deliver meaningful programs that are the kinds of seeds of potential that I want to be scattering out there in the world.
But, to be frank, not enough of those spaghetti tosses have stuck to grow my work with individuals as much as I need to for financial sustainability.
So while I continue to nurture all the communal connection and networking that feeds me, and while I continue to channel energy into the sticky-spaghetti projects that are ongoing, I’m also looking at what ideas I can compost for new energy resources.
And to help with that, I've turned to professional outsiders I am paying to help me.
Because despite all the wisdom of all the many people I've found inspiration from along the way, my portfolio career of projects is not well balanced right now.
2025 has been an awakening. My overall plan for building my business has been to rely on institutional client projects for base level income while slowly growing the audience for my individual offerings through free and low-mid cost options.
That's shifting. I love working with museums and cultural orgs, and I want to keep doing it. I'm just not as confident relying on it for the same income base I have been.
So I'm focusing more energy on building more stable offerings for individuals. And while it's hard to see money going out of the bank accounts while I have less coming in, I am still in a financially stable enough place that I can avoid letting that scarcity mindset take the lead.
So I'm leaning into abundance instead and paying people I trust for help.
Abundance also means I invest in others
I'm paying Rebecca Magee to compassionately and gently lead me and a small group through our Reimagining Leadership exploration that has encouraged me to embrace this caterpillar goo moment.
I'm paying Holly Wielkoszewski to take a look at the digital systems I use in my business and see if there are ways I can streamline them to make sure the systems are working for me, rather than me working to maintain my systems.
I'm paying Jenn DePrizio for some coaching as part of a skill barter we worked out for her to participate in one of my offers.
And I'm paying Jessica Abel the most I've ever spent on my business to help me clarify and develop an offer than can use my skill-sets and creativity. I’m excited and nervous for her to help me identify what problem I can (be paid to) help enough people solve that I can live as a fellow beneficiary of this cycle of abundance. Even when much of the messaging in the world right now is (understandably) in full-on scarcity mode.
I don't know what my new offer will be yet, but I’m looking forward to focusing on what my metaphorical imaginal cells are to be the building blocks of something new.
I'm nervous about this whole process: about spending the money, and also about admitting publicly that things aren't working for me. And also about trying to pin down what even are my most valuable skills. And also about figuring out what problem(s) I'm in the best position to help other people solve.
So I'm going to get myself out of the spiral of anxiety this writing stint has brought me to by going to walk the dog and listen to a non-work related podcast.
And perhaps before I leave, I'll put these out there as a few ways you can help me if you feel so inclined.
Be part of the cycle of abundance, yourself
If you're in a position with an organization where you could use my services, send me an email or schedule a free connection call.
And if you're working for an organization or for yourself right now, email me with your answer to this question:
As you think about how your work, life, and communities intersect right now, what problem(s) are you facing that you'd like help solving?
Creative Prompt Coda: Take some time to think and/or write about where in your life you are the recipient of and where you are the provider of abundance.
