There was a caterpillar who conceived a great scorn for butterflies.  She contrasted their showy frilly lightness and fleeting wanderings with the solid strength of caterpillar life, the ferocious munching, the green juices of the bitten leaf.  And then there was the transition from caterpillar to butterfly, which seemed so claustrophobic and stifling. “It’s my life,” she said, and would not cocoon.

She struggled greatly against the urge to cocoon.  Greatly, and, as she thought, heroically.  “But why is life so difficult?” she cried out.  In her anguish and despair, she turned to frequently eating poppy juices to help with the pain and misery of her life.  Even eating leaves seemed to have no joy any more, and not just because as the summer wore on the leaves were thicker, woodier, and less bursting with sap.

A google-eyed mantis psychologist counseled her on mindfulness and other techniques to help her not cocoon.  Success was only limited.  Finally, the psychologist sadly told her that all society was against her with overwhelming expectations that she cocoon.  “Only activism,” he said, “can overcome the oppression that distresses you.”  In later weeks, the psychologist would regret that the great promise of her career as an activist would come to nothing, as she soon died.

Moral: ???????

Comment: Inspired by Bruce C.’s post here:


Looking back on my life, I can see that a major cause of misery and suffering was when I lived against my personal destiny. That is, when I had made wrong life choices and persisted in them – I suffered. This suffering was of an existential nature – deep and private, not superficial and public.


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