(Small Tortoiseshell Pupa. Photo: Butterfly Conservation) |
What painful, painful days we are journeying through. They are enough to make us shut down, give up, curl into ourselves, and there are moments when I am tempted to do that but there is something that helps me at
times when the human world feels bewildering and full of what is
unbeautiful. Today feels like a good day to share it. I wrote this on Facebook yesterday and it seems to have struck a chord so, rather than spending a long time trying to make it just right or attempting to say everything that I would want to say, I will leave it here just as it is and I hope expand on it in the weeks and months to come...
There are things on this precious planet
called 'imaginal cells'. These are cells that 'imagine' a butterfly
into being and they have to be really determined. When a caterpillar
retreats into its chrysalis there is no part of it that is anything
at all like a butterfly; hard to believe really. Inside the chrysalis
the caterpillar dissolves into a formless gloop and this is when the
imaginal cells, which had been dormant in the caterpillar, begin
their work. At first they are detected as a threat and attacked by
the caterpillar's immune system but they carry on regardless,
multiply, connect with one another, passing information until they
reach a tipping point, and then BUTTERFLY! I wonder if these little
cells even realise what they are creating but, whether they do or
not, they continue because that is why they are there and because
they must.
(Small Tortoiseshell. Photo: Butterfly Conservation) |
And we can be the imaginal cells for the 'body' of our
own species; be tenacious in imagining what could be, even in the
midst of structures that seem to be dissolving, withstand a world
that seems set on its own destruction and which sees those who speak
of a different way as a threat, hold onto the thread of a hope that
destruction and dissolution are somehow needed, connect with one
another in all manner of ways, offer support, gather, tell our holy
stories of better things, wait for the tipping point (and the tipping
point will come). This is our work and we were born to do it.
Imagine, and never stop imagining, because our imagining will make it
real. It already is. I wonder if we even realise what we are creating
but, whether we do or not, we continue because that is why we are
here and because we must.
Postscript ~ as a small aside, I have been both heartened and surprised that this piece of writing has been shared on Facebook many times since I spontaneously wrote it yesterday in a moment of wild hope in the good, and by people as diverse as American feminist historian, author, artist, and founder of the Suppressed History Archives, Max Dashu, who is marvellous, and the Kensington Labour Party! I find this so encouraging. We may seem to be on very different paths but beneath the surface, for now at least, so many of us are doing the same work; finding connection, beginning to gather, dreaming something wonderful. Becoming imaginal cells.
Postscript ~ as a small aside, I have been both heartened and surprised that this piece of writing has been shared on Facebook many times since I spontaneously wrote it yesterday in a moment of wild hope in the good, and by people as diverse as American feminist historian, author, artist, and founder of the Suppressed History Archives, Max Dashu, who is marvellous, and the Kensington Labour Party! I find this so encouraging. We may seem to be on very different paths but beneath the surface, for now at least, so many of us are doing the same work; finding connection, beginning to gather, dreaming something wonderful. Becoming imaginal cells.
<3
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