TOWARD A LIVING AND CONSCIOUS IDENTITY — Final Reflection

A Journey for a Free Identity

For the past months, each Sunday, we’ve explored a different facet of identity—how it forms, how it evolves, how values shape it, how the world challenges it, and how action anchors it.
This reflection is the final piece.
A closing chapter, but not an ending—because identity, as we’ve seen, is never a finished form.
Here, we return to the metaphors that opened this journey: the butterfly and the tree. They bring us back to the heart of it all—transformation, presence, and the quiet courage of being your true self.

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Conclusion — A Journey for a Free Identity

In the first articles of this journey, we spoke of the journey of the butterfly—from egg to caterpillar, from caterpillar to chrysalis, and finally to that winged creature we gaze upon with wonder.

We also spoke of the tree—how it begins, hidden in a seed dropped there, sometimes by chance, sometimes by purpose, deep within the soil. Then comes the sprout, tender and flexible, pushing its way through the earth in search of light. It becomes a stem, then a trunk. The trunk thickens, deepens its roots, and one day, the tree bears fruit and casts shade—offering refuge and nourishment. It even gives birth to other seeds, other trees, other lives.

So, the question arises: at what point is the tree the best version of itself? Some will answer without hesitation: “When it’s tall, majestic, strong, and fruitful.” But is that really so certain? Does the tree ask itself that question? Does it consider itself incomplete when it is only a sapling? Does it believe it has arrived once it bears fruit?

And the butterfly? At what moment does it live fully? When it is still an egg? A crawling, ravenous caterpillar? A silent chrysalis, tucked away in its cocoon? Or when it finally takes flight—wings wide open, dancing freely in the wind?

We humans tend to place value on the final form—the visible, perfected beauty. But is that truly the pinnacle of life? What if neither the butterfly nor the tree chose a single phase as the most fulfilled? What if, at each stage, they simply lived fully—without trying to become anything other than what they already are, here and now?

I believe that is the essence of their wisdom: at every stage of their transformation, they live true to their nature. The egg doesn’t dream of flying. It focuses on survival. The caterpillar doesn’t worry about appearances. It feeds on what it needs. The larva, in silence, welcomes the slow alchemy of transformation. And the butterfly—light and fleeting—never looks back. It flies, it drinks, it offers itself to the world.

The tree doesn’t hurry. It doesn’t doubt itself. It grows with the rhythm of the seasons, welcomes both rain and sunlight, bends beneath the wind, but always rises again. And maybe, deep within—once it has become an immense tree—it still remembers the warm taste of earth, the first thrill of light brushing its tender stem.

We humans could live the same way. We have the ability. But what makes us strong—our consciousness, our intelligence—is also our trap. Because while we know how to dream, to build, to hope, we also know how to doubt, to judge ourselves, to hold ourselves back.

Our mind can be the cradle of a strong and free identity—or the prison of a self locked in the illusion of who it “should be.”

Does the tree complain about a harsh season? Does it let a past frost stop it from living the present spring? I don’t know what you think, but I firmly believe it doesn’t. The tree doesn’t dwell on it. It accepts, it embraces, it moves forward. If the cold has scorched its leaves or broken its branches, it lets them fall. It doesn’t linger. It regrows. And when one part is too damaged to return, it chooses another spot from which to sprout a new branch. It wears its scars without shame. They are visible marks of its story, but they don’t hinder its growth. On the contrary—they are part of its greatness.

We should live like the tree. In our quest for identity, there are seasons of blossoming and others that strip us bare. Sometimes we rise. Sometimes we fall. That’s life. And there is no path to escape it. But we must not let yesterday’s triumphs or past wounds deprive us of the present. The present is the truest thing we have. It’s not the mature tree or the adult butterfly that lives best—it’s the one who fully inhabits its current stage. The butterfly flies without trying to become a caterpillar again. The tree grows without clinging to its days as a seed.

And if we live like they do, then our transformation will happen on its own. Without force, without even noticing. And it will be others—not us—who see the change. Because in truth, we don’t “change”: we live. We embrace the present moment. And by living it fully, we evolve. Naturally. Authentically.

All we need is to be faithful to ourselves. To make space for silence, so we can hear that voice deep within—the one that never shouts, but always knows. To seek answers where they are born: within. And like the caterpillar, feed on everything life gives us: the world, our loved ones, our work, the glances of strangers, words, silences. Then digest. Sort through. Keep what helps us grow. Reject what poisons us. Because what we take in today will shape the person we become tomorrow.

So yes, I choose to be myself. Even if it bothers others. Even if it doesn’t always make sense. Because being yourself sometimes means being contradictory. And that’s perfectly fine. Absolute consistency is a trap. So is comfort. Both can suffocate your inner drive, freeze the movement of your soul, and delay the birth of who you truly are.

This journey is not an answer. It’s an invitation. An invitation to really look at yourself. To listen to that quiet voice we’ve silenced too often. Because to grow is to revise the idea we have of ourselves—without ever betraying what is deeply true within us.

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🪞 Step for Reflection

Ask yourself today:

• What phase am I in — seed, sprout, trunk, or fruit?

• Am I rejecting this phase, or living it fully?

• What can I release today so I can grow more freely tomorrow?

Your identity is not a destination.
It’s a season — constantly shifting, constantly becoming.

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A Note of Gratitude

Thank you to everyone who has followed this series from the very beginning — and to those who joined us somewhere along the way. I’ve organized all the chapters on the site by section, so you can revisit the entire journey in order whenever you wish.

The first chapter is also available on Gumroad, where you can download and read the complete version.

To every reader: thank you.
I’m grateful for every comment, every like, every share, and every quiet reading moment on your side of the screen. I truly hope that throughout this journey, these reflections have helped you walk more deeply and more freely toward your own identity.

I’m also happy to share that all the articles from this series will be gathered into a full ebook, set to be released at the beginning of 2026.
And our next adventure together will explore a new theme — reflections on LOVE.

Thank you again, sincerely, for being part of this path.

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Until next time, take care.
Warmly,
Odel A.