Scenery
It
is as round as a quarter when rolled up in a ball. When it walks across the
road it is the length of a broken in half Crayola crayon.
It
is black and furry. Yes, furry with lots of little legs. These tiny limbs move
it slowly, traveling ever so diligently in the direction only it knows.
Like
us, when someone new approaches, they curl up, protecting themselves. You can
hold them, but they won’t emerge right away. It takes time.
Weightless
they feel, alive though they are and reminders to us to slow down, take the
long road, and enjoy the scenery. It embodies patience and wisdom.
If
it survives the dangerous journey, the end is a beautiful display of color. Not
only color, but wings, which will stretch wide, allowing it to fly high.
The
uncertainty is allegory for creativity. If you seek to be beautiful, if you
seek to be transformed, if you seek to be yourself—we must go walking.
We
can learn from the silence with which it walks. Though the body’s busy, the softness
remains loud. It walks not only with body, but also with being.
It
walks gently. It walks tenderly, reverently, while preserving the passage of
time. Despite its hair-raising appearance, it walks joyfully through the day.
To
this furry friend, understanding comes not in the conclusion but during the
walking. Speed is not a priority. To walk on the earth is to see into the life
of things.
This is a process. At times it may feel as if we know not where we are going.
Other times, we see the destination in sight. We, like the caterpillar, are
undergoing a transformation. What we have received is life, a gift from God.
This breath is an energy that cannot be destroyed, but only altered or
confined.
With
this breath, like the wiggles in a caterpillar, we embark on a quest, to evolve
throughout a cosmic twine. “Angelic horses, body and soul is chariot; Larvae
and insects, keep planets in balance; Butterflies evolves into eternal art, and
that humble caterpillar becomes infinity's canvas.”
And
when it all becomes too much, when you feel as if you can’t go on: remember this: just when the caterpillar thought “I am
incapable of moving,” it became a butterfly.
Of
course, this transformation, this liberation, can’t occur unless we uncurl from
our hesitations and stretch our legs, and walk, or crawl, with faith, toward
hope…
No comments:
Post a Comment