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munch, munch, munch

July 25, 2006

ph_jul_monarchcatterpillar.jpg

Muncher ~ Canon 30d

There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.
~ Richard Buckminster Fuller

I think Fuller is right ~ nothing in that caterpillar speaks of radical transformation and iridescent wings painted with orange and black powder. I see a magical creature for sure, but come on... he's just a bottom-dweller.

Monarchs have all the fun, don't they? Each stop along the metamorphosis journey is more unique and splendid than the one before. My heart skipped a beat when I found this little fella. I've always wanted to see a real live monarch caterpillar, a real live monarch chrysalis, and real live monarch butterflies up close and personal ever since I was a little girl. HOORAY FOR ME! I accomplished all three at Brookside Gardens in Maryland last month. They have an amazing butterfly pavilion that makes this kind of photography a breeze, but don't tell anyone I said this... it's supposed to be terribly difficult!

;)

I'm wondering about metamorphosis and radical transformations. Is there nothing in us that tells anyone there's a butterfly ready to emerge from our hearts? Or, are we just crawling along on our bellies pondering the meaning of our existences while stuffing our faces with ice cream and plant matter?

I'm going to toss in a curiosity-inspired "what if" statement. Ready?

What if belly crawling is just a part of the process? A temporary blip on the radar? What if the way things are unfolding ~ the fear, the pain ~ are part of the master drawings? We're all in the midst of creating portraits of ourselves... sometimes the pen runs dry, the paint cakes up, the lens gets scratched or we just FUCK UP. We panic. Speed things up. Spin, spin, spinning our wheels and kicking up mud all over the living room in a frenzy. Digging ourselves deeper and deeper, creating further misery for ourselves and burning holes in the carpet. I know what it's like. You're sitting in the middle of your muddy living room with little birds circling around your head and the shadow descends like fog across your inner landscape. Why me? What's wrong with me? I'm a worm, for god's sake! I'm nothing but a pathetic uninspired, unimportant putrid worm.

{ violins, please }

Before you completely allow the fog to roll in, do yourself a huge favor ~ give the gift of patience to yourself. Leave your depression in the freezer along with Ben and Jerry, and give yourself permission to hit the pause button. No one can do it for you. It's a choice. And a radical one at that. Accept yourself.

There's a magical thing every monarch butterfly knows in the most expansive place tucked inside their tiny insect hearts. The glorious moment ~ the spreading of wings, the tender unfolding ~ is born of mud and soil ~ from gnawing and gnashing and chewing and torrential raining. Every butterfly wise enough to break free from its cage knows everything there is to know about drudgery, gorging and waiting.

So keep munching little caterpillar. You're doing fine. Keep all those feet moving in rhythm behind each other, patiently saving your special talents and energy for the appointed time of awakening.

Posted by vincent at July 25, 2006 12:00 AM

Comments

Susan, a great post and so right on.

Posted by: jzr at July 25, 2006 08:24 AM

Susan, I so heartily agree with you!
I have been coming to the same conclusion.. that all this craziness is just a part of the process.

I'm not sure what the end result is supposed to be. I guess that is the mystery of it, isn't it?

Oh, to be a butterfly.

Posted by: aola at July 25, 2006 11:11 AM

What a spectacular picture! And oh, I so loved your post. I'm a real sucker for transformation. Thank your for reminding me to also love the caterpillar part!

Posted by: Jamie at July 25, 2006 08:39 PM

I loved this page so much I bookMMMarked you in the DOTR. :) Great stuff@

Posted by: MMM at July 26, 2006 10:58 PM

This is a great post. I so related to each and every word. And so I wait...

Posted by: candy at July 26, 2006 11:50 PM

if i leave the depression can i still have the ben & jerry's...please...

Posted by: la vie en rose at July 27, 2006 11:26 PM

Oh you sing to my soul. I am sooooo thrilled I found your blog today!

Posted by: Colorsonmymind at August 3, 2006 08:15 PM