I’m sitting here at my desk working and watching the show in the backyard. All the usual.
Birds foraging. Lemons glowing. Squirrels escaping some unseen force.
Plus, wait what? Butterflies?
So many butterflies.
Mitch and I started seeing them on our drive out to the desert this weekend.
What are all these things flying at the car?
Wait what, butterflies?
Thought it was a desert thing.
But no here we are and so I finally googled.
I mean sometimes you like to let things just be.
And not have the fill in the blank answer.
You do don’t you?
They’re Painted Ladies.
Often mistaken for Monarchs.
And because of so much rain they’re proliferating.
But then this.
It takes three generations of butterflies to complete the migration.
No one butterfly ever experiences the whole trip?
Only the group consciousness experiences the whole trip.
Only we on the outside experience their whole trip?
They only experience the tripping.
The verb of it.
The many nows that become the migration.
And now I’m remembering my favorite butterfly fact.
I’d forgotten it.
After a caterpillar cocoons it dissolves into nothing before it becomes a butterfly.
Dissolves into like an amino soup of becomingness.
Before it can be a butterfly.
Its own migration.
That one the single being experiences fully.
I believe that somehow, knowing this
Gave me the courage
To let go and dissolve when it was what I had to do.
Because sure, we’re all changing.
All the time.
But sometimes it’s the full on rebirth.
And that’s kind of challenging.
And if you have or are or about to
Remember the cocoon of amino soup
That precedes the butterfly.
I’m not saying get a tramp stamp or anything.
But know that mama has a metaphor for you.
We are all our selves.
And we are all part of the migration.
And I love UnCabaret for how it expresses that.
And as for painted ladies…
I’ll be in full effect, as we all will, at Rockwell on 3/24!
Getting super excited for it!