Last updated on 11/02/2010
I remember my father tending to the apple trees in the yard where I grew up. In the springtime, when the leaves were tender and bright green, thousands of caterpillars hatched…and they would munch, munch, munch, on the leaves, just like in Eric Carle’s book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I remember my father’s distress when the caterpillars threatened to eat the trees down to the trunk.
I didn’t understand life-cycles, nor did I understand the amazing transition that the caterpillars undergo.
When I began teaching school, caterpillars were the star of the life-cycle show. My wonderful volunteer, Deborah, would spend hours in milkweed patches looking for Monarch eggs and caterpillars. (I have to say, I spent hours looking, and could never find one.)
She would bring the little critters, along with their milkweed buffet, and set up the aquarium in the back of our classroom. Over the next weeks we’d watch the caterpillars grow longer, fatter, and then sluggish….and then, they’d disappear. Overnight, they would spin themselves into a picture-perfect chrysalis, and just hang there for a week or so.
With great anticipation, we’d check the chrysalis each day, waiting for some sign of life in what looked like an entombment. The waiting was hard, but it was important that we left them alone until they were ready to emerge. I don’t know what happens if a chrysalis gets shaken by a third-grader, mid-transition, but it can’t be pretty.
Then we’d see it…a slight color change. The protective shell became translucent, and then suddenly, clear. At some point a student would notice a bit of vibration. We’d gather around and watch, and wait, and watch, and wait some more, and then the children were dismissed for the day. (Awwww shoot!) I had to make the students go catch their buses…they didn’t want to leave.
Sometimes the butterfly would wait for morning, and sometimes the gift was all mine.
The vibration turns into a wiggle, and the wiggle into life. I have no idea which part comes out first, but suddenly, there it is! Amazing glory! The poor little guy stumbles out of his little blankie, all wet and disoriented. Short of the birth of a child, there are few things as miraculous and un-explainable as the emergence of a butterfly.
Newly hatched butterflies can’t fly. Their wings are soaking wet and stuck together. It takes time for them to dry off and figure out what to do. Perhaps they take a little time to ponder the direction they’d like to fly, and what they might accomplish next. After-all, the whole emergence thing is a hard act to follow.
Holding a wet, shaky butterfly is a precious, God-given, gift. Before they can fly, they crawl all over you. They move slowly at first, but speed up within an hour or so as they gain confidence, and dry off those wings. The ultimate show and tell!
I remember one butterfly in-particular that the kids named Tiger. ‘He’ crawled on fingers, toes, and noses, and the children were…well, they were children. We sat with Tiger in the grass, waiting for his wings to dry in the sunshine. Lots of giggles, lots of amazement….and suddenly, he was off. Fluttering around unsteadily, and then up, into the bright blue sky. We watched. Big smiles, and big imaginations, wondering where Tiger was headed.
I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘Tiger’, but I’m feeling every bit as much in emergence as he was the afternoon he emerged from his cocoon. I’ve been processing, asking questions, getting feedback. I’ve been in transition, personally, and with my writing. My wings are still wet. I’m enjoying stumbling around forums with other writers, finding my direction. I’m making time to write from my heart, so that when my wings are completely dry, I’ll take to the sky with wings wide open.
Take good care everyone….it’s a pleasure to write for you.
If you have a moment, here’s a glimpse of the wonder…enjoy!
Thank you, OakleyOriginals , for the amazing Monarch photo!
Your wings may still be wet, but I can already see that they’re strong and beautiful. Looking forward to following you on your flights.
Thanks Jean, Stepping into the sunshine is awesome! Thanks your positive inspiration in the forums and on Virginblogger!
Jane
Well, Jane, I think you are “shaking off” pretty good! I see your writing changing, emerging each time you post. I’m proud of what you are doing.
We have lots of butterflies this year. Mom
Lovely post, Jane. It’s wonderful that you are feeling so open and ready. Writing is an unfolding. I wish you all the best as you take flight.
That’s beautiful Janey…looking forward to many more.
Loved your writing. I’m a long time fan of your mom’s poetry and I see you have the same gift. Keep it up and let others enjoy your talent.
Hi Jane,
I loved this post. I’m a big Monarch Butterfly fan. I have milkweed growing in my backyard just for them. Sadly after 4 years I still don’t have any eggs on my plants though.
It takes a while for us to take flight. Like Tiger we might be a bit wobbly at first but it’s only a matter of some practice and soon we’ll be flying around like we’ve been doing it our whole lives.
I enjoyed this very much. I look forward to coming back and reading more of your delightful writing.
@Mom and @ Alese
Thanks for your kind words.
Mom has fostered my writing since I was a girl (hence the 30 Notes and 30 Days project 🙂 LOL)
I’m a work in progress…but it’s feeling good right now.
Take good care!
Jane
@Katie
Thanks so much for taking a minute to write. Your energy and enthusiasm come through your writing and your dedication to participating in the forums. I used to teach my students that “readers and writers become readers and writers by reading and writing.” Seemed to make sense to them, so I’ll just take my own advice and keep on writing.
Take good care, Katie, and keep up the awesome writing!
Jane
@Jilly
Happy to hear from you! Looking forward to seeing you next weekend!
🙂
@Angela
Milkweed in your back yard is awesome! I’ve always toy’d with the idea, but never did it. I grew up near the Blue Ridge Parkway, where there are fields full of milkweed, covered with butterflies of all shapes and sizes. Fortunately nature is protected on the parkway, so when I visit, I have to resist the urge to grab an armful and bring it home.
The whole process is fascinating…reminds me to enjoy the simple things on this journey.
Take good care, and stop by again sometime.
(I’ve had a little trouble with my ‘subscribe to comments’ link. Hope I’ll be able to reactivate it soon.)
Jane
Hi Jane,
If you like I could send you some seeds – milkweed, that is.
Just let me know.
Angela
Hi Angela, How sweet! Milkweed seeds would be great! I’ll email my address to you. I’m guessing your email is on your website somewhere. Thanks a bunch! 🙂
Beautiful! Thank you Jane.
One of my favorite spiritual thinkers is called Adyashanti and he has a saying…
“A butterfly is not a caterpillar with wings”
Which really emphasizes the fundamentally transformational quality of that time in the tomb or “entombment” as you called it. We can’t be what we were and who we want to be.
I remind myself of that often as so much of spirituality, or quite simply life, is about letting go and believing in the process and allowing ourselves to be transformed into the truest fullest reality of what we are. Thanks again.
Grace and Peace!
Matt
Hi Matt…good to hear from you!
I love that “We can’t be what we were and who we want to be.” Realizing that is such a stepping stone for letting go. What is life but transformation?
I’ll look into some of Adyashanti’s books. Spontaneous Awakening caught my eye. Which of his books have you read?
Your gifts are many….thank you for always helping me see life in new ways.
Take good care!
What an gift of inspiration this is!! I have long been fascinated with caterpillar butterfly transition although I’ve never seen it happen live, in front of me. I didn’t know about the time between the moment the butterfly is hatched until flight. I found this enlightening. “Newly hatched butterflies can’t fly. Their wings are soaking wet and stuck together. It takes time for them to dry off and figure out what to do.”
I too am in a transition larger than I can actually see and it’s inspiring and calming to know that perhaps I too am in the moment where my wings are wet and stuck together.
I am excited for your journey!
Thank you for this inspiration today!
Oh Aileen, you’re very welcome. It warms my heart to read your kind words…over and over 🙂
I’m very grateful that you’re able to relate to the process. It is a miracle to watch, and a miracle to live. If we’re intentional about it, the moisture is there. We are protective, maybe a bit fragile and unsure. With gentle care, we can sense the evaporation, and then the magic…our bodies open, our posture becomes more upright and we carry our shoulders with confidence. Our wings are wide open and we’re ready to fly. Thank you, Aileen.
Much gratitude for the mutual inspiration!
Take good care!
Jane
Wow, Jane. That is a lovely post and a truly tender way of sharing a journey. On an aside, I never knew butterflies can’t fly when newly hatched. It just confirms my belief that it takes a little time but once the time is right, we can soar. 🙂
Blessings and best wishes.
Hi Prerna, I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Thank goodness timing is determined by someone other than me….just as the butterfly hatches and flies when the time is right, and not before….so do we.
Have a great day!
Jane