Metamorphasis

I may have found a kindred spirit. Most unexpectedly.

We have been anxiously anticipating butterflies since we received a plastic container full of 5 fuzzy little caterpillars and some brown crud. And while I love that we can actually witness such an amazing phenomenon in our home, I've had to fake some of my enthusiasm because I'm still phobic about all these creepy crawlies... I mean, beautiful little creatures.

And yet I must be evolving somewhat because at one time I was one of those squeaky little girls who would squeal "Eeew! Kill it!" at the sight of any insect. Spiders especially.

So I'm getting there. Trying to be a good Buddhist. And while I can't quite embrace insects, I'm learning to respect them from a safe distance. But caterpillars in my house. That's a little too close.

However, I did get over it temporarily when that transformation started to take place. I found myself right up against the little mesh habitat, watching to see what would happen. And it was pretty amazing. Ok, and still a little disgusting if I'm to be totally honest. But amazing. We welcomed Cream Cheese, Sam, Max and Freebird back into the world and it was very exciting. But one of our butterflies got stuck in its chrysalis. It's bottom half wriggled on an off throughout the day, part of its wings struggling to flap and open while still wedged partially inside. At one point it looked as though it had given up. I figured it had died.

I saw it the next morning on the floor of the habitat, a crumpled mess. It had legs and antennae, but they were mangled and folded in odd directions. Big bulges on the side of its body seemed to be parts of the wings that were never allowed to unfurl... and then there were the partial wings that had been struggling from the day before. I felt a bit of relief that this butterfly never made it. And then Benjamin saw it move. And then there it was trying to fly. Shen and I decided to name it Scrappy.

And in the past 3 days, Scrappy has consumed me. We've set the other butterflies free, but though Scrappy made a valiant attempt to escape, we're keeping him. Feeding him orange slices and sugar water on balled up tissues, spraying him with water that I keep hoping will hydrate those withered wings and allow them to open. And it's only since Scrappy's arrival that I've been willing to do any of this myself. This little butterfly has got a bit of a hold on me. I really just can't bear to see it suffering. And I've developed a deep respect for it, the way it chugs along.

I've been wondering what's making me so determined to rehabilitate a butterfly. And a few things come to mind. Well, first, I really think it would be incredibly unfair for that poor caterpillar to go through such an enormous change only to come out crippled and disfigured... and incomplete. It didn't get to evolve into what it's supposed to be. The idea of that is making me crazy. Ok, so maybe it's a leap, but the idea of not fulfilling your destiny... spreading your wings... flying... completing your transformation... it's all striking me. I desperately want Scrappy to get his chance to fly. Ok, and me, too.

The second thought is that maybe I'm just finally developing some compassion for bugs.

Well, at least that means I'm moving in the right direction.