The other day, I was granted a peek at a miracle. I watched this very butterfly emerge from her cocoon.
I watched the shriveled wing poke through seemingly plastic encasing and unfurl her self from her shell.
I stood breathless, as she took in her first breath. I watched her rounded, bloated belly, pulse. I saw her feeling through her new life, a timid flip of her wings, an unsteady grasp upon her too small, no-longer-serving safety of a home.
I was baffled with brillance at witnessing such an intimate moment, for this new life.
I silently cheered her on, in my awe. I thanked her for allowing me to witness her unfolding - but I knew better than to help her. Even when, she swayed precariously as she resitatuated, even as she struggled to flex into her full wingspan, I did not touch her. Why?
Well, as you may or may not remember, a butterfly's wings are not flight worthy immediately. Rather, she has to work to expell the fluid in her abdomen into her wings, allow them to dry and build her muscles before flight. If the butterfly (you know where this is going) does not struggle, she will not live to fly. The strength she garners in this uncertainity births the fortitude for flight.
What I found particularly significant, was that this butterfly, as a gift to a Waldorf school, was being born in a large mason jar; the second of three. Her brother born before her, had gotten confused, when he dropped to the bottom of the jar and needed to be helped out - after which he flew away happily. We didn't want this to happen to her, so we watched.
I stood there and watched with admiration - her struggle. She would endure this weakness until it bore strength. She would struggle to achieve her liberation: but I would stand there to ensure that she would not fall; she would not fail; she would fly. As I stood there, sending her my silent cheers: the preciousness of the moment revealed itself: Just as I stood watch for her, behind me, this Universe had legions saying the same of me: Kate would endure this weakness until it bore strength. She will struggle to achieve her liberation, but she will fly.
And so will you.