How to catch a butterfly.

It is almost a year ago since I have written following poem. Infact, it is a true account. I really did catch some butterflies when I was a kid. Often on dry days, flocks of butterflies would fly across the playground, from east to west in some days. From north to south other days.

Catching a butterfly Poem

Why and how to catch butterflies?

And I am not proud of my abilities of catching a butterfly. Infact, I advise anyone not to. These delicate creatures have so flimsy wings that trying to catch them with hand would almost certainly damage their wings. I cannot remember, what happened, but I have the feeling of guilt still remain in my heart, that some of them did not fly. I was a kid after all exploring the world, now when I think about it now. Maybe curiosity drove me, killing was not my intention. So, I forgive myself, what else can I do? Yet I write everything here as it is a good example for mindfulness.

I feel like Joseph Mangle in Auschwitz, touching those withering lives of Mimosa Pudica. Yet, catching butterflies need enormous patience. Like a wild cat, you need to sneak up to them slowly. They would fly away if any movement of air. I'm not sure they can see us. But when they close their wings, I was able to grab them by the wings. I teach my kids not to touch these insects now, yet nobody was watching when I did it. Only me and the God. As I now know the God, lived within me all these years, without any doubt, to witness it all, happening. Maybe all those butterflies did reborn as butterflies, or something else. Life is in universe in a continuous flow, cycling. Maybe it is just a memory in my head.

Butterfly: https://unsplash.com/@kageyama

Why shouldn't you catch butterflies?

You may think that is something simple, and if I told you that is all what happened I would be lying. This is a confession of a crime of my past and whoever you are reading now is the judge. I have caught countless dragonflies, flies, tiny creatures, who would die. The guilt is enormous, although the lives are tiny. Maybe I was abusing power just like a dictator would do. Will I be forgiven? I fear the punishments of nature, but I would not carry the guilt to my grave. And I would not wait until I am a grandpa, to look at the picture of Dorien grey in the Attic of my past.

There is a big lesson for us to learn here. Consciousness is a potential, equally good or bad. Universe does have a way of trapping us in a guillotine of crabs, a sin cycle. Yet only mindfulness lets me step aside from life, the highway of my thoughts and observe what has happened and happening. Just like a butterfly, life is flimsy agile and fast. Only few would ever have patience to sneak up to depths of the mind to reach and grab it. With mindfulness. And often in places with no more sound than in an empty playground. I consider the now, a butterfly. I grab it by my hands of wisdom.

Consider what it means. What if it means killing my own self? What if I never can catch this thing called myself, without killing it first? What if once I catch it the life of this tiny floating creature would cease to exist and even would not be born? Should I be afraid? Is there even a thing called resurrection? What if I kill myself so I cannot kill any other? Not literally but conceptually?

Does a crane is as guilty as a child catching butterflies? https://unsplash.com/@chirag14

This article is not complete if I do not tell you how I do overcome the guilt. Because everybody has scars that they hide. Answer is not a secret. It is just the same principle. You just empty the cup. When you realize everything, you have seen is just another miracle, of mind. You can understand it is same with guilt (read my article on sin cycle if you would want to know better). Every story of the past, and every story of the future has same origins which is called mind. So, I am not sure, about the story I have given you about butterfly was the true version, as it is just my version of it. Maybe the God, has a different version of the same story. Fact is it doesn't matter. I do not know anything about how the universe functions. I don't know why I should even write about those dead butterflies. I just do not want to be a part of life. It is tiring, and absurd, and even stupid, no matter what I do universe would never make sense.

Imagine this, if there is something called true right, why is it not obvious? Why create a puzzle of entangled heavens, hells, sins and death. Why make living so hard, why make it a contest to survive? It makes no sense.

"Only true wisdom is knowing that you know nothing"