Caterpillars


They have been a source of joy recently, on discovering huge amounts of Peacock butterfly caterpillars on a nettle patch in the park.

I feel at peace and at one with life and the world when I see them. The miracle of change that takes place and the metaphor of that. Who could imagine that these little black spiky beings will in a few weeks emerge into such flying beauties. The way they live their whole lives indifferent to humans and our dramas. And I get a chance to stand outside that drama. The land of me me me.

It’s ironic that the result of intense self discovery, if you are wise, is the forgetting of the self. That’s happiness and joy. Dancing like nobody is watching. Being the dance. Being submerged in helping or giving joy to another. Being lost in creating a work of art, a piece of work, whether writing or cleaning the dishes. Forgetting the self.

Not exactly. It’s a perfect balance of the tension of being aware and unaware of the ‘me’. Being a conduit. Flow state.

I am 3/4 through this paper I have to write to finish and qualify. I’ve been thinking about living life on one’s own without flat mates, a child, a partner.

It’s been tough. I was used to working in order to support a kid. Having a bigger purpose for the effort. Long gone now. I loved having a partner that egged me on when I needed it and got me to pull back when required. A reference point helped me to make decisions, even if I disagreed with the reference point, it helped me find out what I want.

Someone cheering me up, or bringing my mood down. At least it was interaction to work with.

Since lockdown, I’ve been on my own it’s all been pretty ‘swimmy’. Endless choice of what to do with time. Having to make all decisions on my own. Constantly. Learning to keep ones own counsel on everything.

I do consider it an important opportunity to mature. To make friends with myself. Even though often I get stuck in rut moods and nobody can lift me out except me. No distractions from another, or encouragement, and even their shitty mood to push against and use to rebel into cheerfulness.

Every day there’s a choice. What thoughts will I allow in this morning, how will I interpret this situation or that. How about giving up interpretation completely for a moment or two or 5 or 50….

and going off to observe some caterpillars munch some nettles. Face the fear of not interpreting and stay with the experience. Okay then. Rigpa.

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