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So, tell me, what exactly is the process of metamorphosis? To become a butterfly, yes? To spread your wings – your uniquely colored wings, with individual patterns, shades, and colors. Spread them wide, out of your cocoon. Surely, the caterpillar has wandered far enough – pitter patter, with its little legs, searching everywhere for its perfect place of rest and evolution. It is a well-deserved result – a successful metamorphosis. That is the life of a butterfly. A future butterfly. Who knows how long it's going to live? As long as it is done with its life goal – to achieve wings, what does it matter how long it lives?
It is heard that butterflies like to rest their weary, frail corpses on flowers and leaves. Yes, I'm sure you've seen it. And perhaps, surely, one of you humans has admired it. How beautiful the butterfly is, resting its wings in a slow motion, just sitting there. How glad you are? You noticed it pass by. And you stare, you admire.
Quite unfortunate, the butterfly might never know how beautiful its wings are and how admired it once was by a person nearby. Perhaps it doesn't even matter to it in the first place, does it? I suppose we'll never know. Yes, it's logical to assume it doesn't have feelings, thoughts, or dreams because it's not a human. It is a butterfly. A bug. Bugs don't have feelings, thoughts, or dreams. Why would we wonder if the butterfly cares or not about its beautiful appearance? Why ask it if it won't understand? Rather stupid, no? Maybe so. It's a matter of perspective, after all.
But what if we have a caterpillar that is stuck in its phase? No, I don't mean a caterpillar that is stuck being a caterpillar. Think about a caterpillar that is stuck in its pupa. Or is it really stuck? Maybe it simply doesn't want to come out? Have its wings grown, or is it not evolving at all? I believe the little individual doesn't know either. Trust me, it is quite perplexed itself. A small being in a big world, isn't it? If I were the caterpillar, I wouldn't want to come out of my chrysalis either.
But there is a twist. Despite being 'stuck', the little one is still forced to come out eventually and spread its wings. It doesn't matter if its wings are developed enough or not. Nature will force it to come out eventually. It isn't a life goal to grow wings and fly, no – it is a rule. An inevitable process. The inevitable process of metamorphosis. The life of a butterfly. To become a butterfly. To become. To evolve. To change. To live. To conform.
So why is the caterpillar stuck in its chrysalis? Is it in denial? Is it too lazy? Is it a rebel? What is the reason? It would be stupid to ask, no? It is merely a bug. Bugs don't have feelings, thoughts, dreams, or goals. They live by instinct. The instinct – subconscious rule given by mother nature.
What's the conclusion? What is there to conclude? Perhaps the caterpillar isn't even a caterpillar. It would be the only conclusion. However, what makes a caterpillar a caterpillar? What makes an insect, an insect? Labels. Labels, correct? Limit them to labels to define them. Does the caterpillar ever question whether it's a caterpillar? Could the caterpillar have consciousness and awareness? Is that perhaps the reason why it doesn't want to come out? Could be. It is a matter of perspective. A question only leads to a thousand many, and you are left with no answers.
Flying sounds nice, I suppose. But for a conscious caterpillar, it isn't something special. That isn't a real purpose – it believes. For a caterpillar, to deny its only capability of becoming a butterfly? Isn't it absurd? That is all it's capable of, and yet it denies foolishly. What a curse, for a little one to have consciousness. What a struggle it is, to complete the process of metamorphosis.
To spread your wings, and flutter, hither and thiter.