Unapologetic

What's the difference between humility and apology?

Our friend Nestor offered us an interesting perspective on perspectives. He places a shell in the middle of us sitting semi-circle on the beach. "What is to the right of the shell, Cara?" I say, "Nasim is to the right." He says, "And, Nasim, what is to the right of the shell for you?" "You are," she says.

So here is my perspective...my "right-side-of-the-shell" if you will.

Ever notice the proliferation of butterfly analogies? We learn from an early age about metamorphosis and how butterflies begin as eggs, then caterpillars, then cocoons, and finally—if they’re lucky—the caterpillar becomes a winged animal, flirting with flowers on colorfully scaled flight.

Twice this week we’ve heard the scientific explanation of how butterflies are made. Apparently the caterpillar, engorged with food, creates its chrysalis by molting its skin and excreting a new pupal skin (maybe there’s something to be learned here from the caterpillar about how to deal with life after huge meals). Well, the caterpillar doesn’t just grow wings and become a butterfly, no. In fact at first the caterpillar begins a process of essentially digesting itself into a genetic soup. Special cells—which are like butterfly cells—once dormant in the caterpillar begin growing rapidly. In the beginning the caterpillar’s immune system attacks these special cells. The first couple of cells are basically martyred for their impetus to transform. After a while, either from becoming accustomed to the change or by being overcome with sheer force, the immune system gives up and the butterfly soup begins to look more like the creature we recognize in sweet-scented gardens and less like a weird sci-fi movie.

Metamorphosis of some animals can last days, weeks, months. Some butterflies, like the Anise Swallowtail, can stay in this stage of their lives for years.


I’ve been thinking about the majestic butterfly and how all those analogies growing up never encompassed this amazing process in its entirety. In kindergarten, surrounded by padded playgrounds and bright colors, I never suspected that a butterfly beats itself up so much to reach such a beautiful ending. It reminds me of my own existence. Why don’t I ever embrace my change? Why, like the butterfly, do I eat myself from the inside-out as I become a more graceful, decorated, scintillating version of myself? Why do I apologize for my pupal stage by adding qualifiers to the ends of my sentences or simply staying quiet when I have something to say? Why do I hide behind a “humble” guise instead of allowing the genetic soup I’m mixed up in to do its job and allow me explore the application of social, spiritual, and scientific teachings as I arrive at a more advanced stage of our understanding?

Perhaps being humble differs from being apologetic only in the amount of times a day we recognize that we are in a learning mode, a pupal stage, and that one day soon we too will finally emerge from our cocoons to stretch wet wings in spring breezes.

source: http://www.earthlife.net/insects/lepidop1.html