Metamorphosis

(but I'd rather remain a caterpillar)

The first time I read about a caterpillar was in a picture book. One of my parents' many ways of keeping us occupied.

As a child, I loved watching Barney, singing the songs, and learning random facts along the way. There was an episode about butterflies, and as I write this post I hear the song playing faintly in my head.

“Butterfly, butterfly, fly fly away.”

Nobody, however, ever speaks of the caterpillar.

I can't remember the title of the book, and I doubt that the copy is still at home.

What I remember is the shock and awe that enveloped me for days. So much so, that I still remember the story more than 15 years later.

It wasn't fictional, it was simply a short story about how caterpillars become butterflies.

Butterflies are beautiful, their wings remind me of God's promises to man. I like how they fly, without worries and with a simple aim of pollination.

Caterpillars, are the exact opposite. Ruddy, icky, fuzzy, and your worst nightmare without a torchlight.

They have legs, while butterflies have wings.

Without that book, I would have never realized that these two completely different creatures were the same thing.

(Like Tyler Perry and Madea.)

The icky caterpillar somehow becomes a butterfly. Like the ugly duckling finally blossoming. Or a teenager finally hitting puberty.

The conclusion of the story makes me happy. It reminds me that there's always a “glow up” for humans, and even situations. A light after the tunnel, if you must.

What concerns me however, is the process.

Metamorphosis - A noticeable change in character, appearance, function, or condition.

A caterpillar's metamorphosis begins in a coocon, where he/she (I'm not sexist please) spends a total of about two weeks.

It stops eating, sheds its skin, and becomes a pupa.

After this, the next stage of the caterpillar's metamorphosis is from the pupa to becoming a butterfly. In this stage, the broken-down pieces come together to form the new structure of the butterfly.

It does not matter whether or not the caterpillar is claustrophobic.

It does not matter that the caterpillar doesn't eat for several days.

It does not matter that a cocoon is not enough space for the caterpillar used to the luxury of enough room to crawl.

But it is in that cocoon, that the legs are exchanged for wings. After a while, the cocoon splits open and the newly formed butterfly spread it's tiny wet wings

Honestly, I have been feeling like a ruddy caterpillar recently. I'm not claustrophobic, I don't need more room to crawl, I'm just tired of being cooconed.

Cocooned by life.

Cocooned by people and their actions.

Cocooned by my decisions and inaction.

And I find myself wondering, when will I get a break?

The big break?

When will my cocoon split open?

Will I even have wings?

While the butterfly might be beautiful for sight, the process is not so much.

Barney didn't sing, “Caterpillar, caterpillar, crawl crawl away” but I really wish he did.

Until next time,

All my love,

Debs.