One of the xylophone pieces we learned in Ghana was about a caterpillar and her grandmother who always came home late at night. I made up a story about it for teachers to consider using in a little drama with the kids. As follows:
Caterpillar Grandma goes out every night and leaves her granddaughter home alone. She walks slowly home with her friend enjoying the evening and each other’s company and arrives quite late. (Xylophone music and supporting part at medium slow tempo, with song.) The granddaughter was nervous being home alone and asks her grandmother why she was so late, pleading with her to come home earlier the next night. So the next night the grandmother walks just a little bit faster (Xylo music). The granddaughter is still upset and so the next night, the grandmother walks faster yet. (Xylo music) but still gets there a little late. Finally, the last night she runs home (very fast xylo music) and the granddaughter hugs her in relief and asks, “Where did you go every night?” The grandmother answers, “I went to a nearby village and I learned how to weave and now I have a gift for you. “ (Reveals a beautiful fabric and wraps it around the granddaughter).
That originally was the end of my little story, but then I added this:
This cloth will be your cocoon and if you wear it every day for the next few
weeks, you will come out as a butterfly and fly!
And that reminded me of a composition project I did with kids some 30 years ago based on a poem called Chrysalis Diary. It got me interested in looking up that transition from caterpillar to butterfly. And here is one explanation I found:
A cocoon is a protective casing, typically made of silk, that some insects, like caterpillars, spin around themselves during the pupa stage of their development. It provides a safe space for the insect to transform into its adult form. The term "cocoon" can also be used metaphorically to describe anything that provides protection or isolation.
A caterpillar transforms into a butterfly through a fascinating process called metamorphosis. The caterpillar, after eating and growing, forms a chrysalis (or pupa). Inside the chrysalis, the caterpillar's body undergoes a dramatic reorganization, breaking down and rebuilding into the form of a butterfly. Finally, the adult butterfly emerges from the chrysalis.
And so. We are all creatures of meaning and I seem particularly obsessed with trying to make sense of whatever is happening, put things in a larger mythological context that supports my intuition that we are meant to evolve and live lives worthy of our spiritual promise. These two terms of the Orangeman’s regime have been maddening on multiple levels and causing real physical and life-threatening damage to so many innocent people. But it also has been so hard to understand why all the things we set in motion back in the late 60’s and early 70’s that aimed for inclusion, ecological sustainability, compassion, justice, love, beauty and more good stuff suddenly are being washed away in a flood worse than what’s happening in Texas now.
So I’m always looking for hopeful clues that there is a deeper layer of meaning that will eventually redeem all the horror. That as a species we need something more than business as usual to become who we are meant to be. And it struck me that the caterpillar to butterfly metaphor is as good as any image to keep hope alive.
At the same time that we need to be crawling along out in the world in our caterpillar form, many of us are realizing that we need some time to isolate to both protect the delicate threads of Soul within us and begin to grow into something else. I am particularly struck by the way the caterpillar body breaks down the tissues of its body and completely reforms them into a new physical form that will allow it to fly away. Perhaps that is what is happening as we shelter inside the cocoon of art and meditation and gathering with loved ones and like-minded ones. It’s a time to complete reform who we have been and build our new body of Spirit and Soul to fly forth in freedom.
Think about it.