Written by Karen D. Swim
When I was 6 or 7 years old I caught a butterfly in a jar. My little girl innocence led me to believe that the butterfly would be happy in its glass prison. I put a leaf , the head of a aisy, and a few blades of grass in the jar so Ophelia would feel at home. I gently carried the jar to my room and sat it on the windowsill. I pressed my nose against the jar watching closely believing that something magical would happen.
What I did not know is that the beauty of the butterfly is in its flight not its capture. I tried to recreate nature in a jelly jar but it was not the same. In the jar there was no soft fluttering of wings as the butterfly moved gracefully from leaf to flower and the sun did not catch the kaleidoscope of colors that made the world seem magical. The beauty that I longed to possess was only present when the butterfly was in action, free and in the wild, not stilled by a little girl and her jar.
Like the butterfly, words, ideas and thoughts are most beautiful when they are allowed to soar. Their beauty is showcased as they move effortlessly with the wind mixing with other elements and carrying the conversation from plant to leaf.
Yet, we long to capture that moment when the idea, the thought shimmers brightly in the sunlight casting a warm glow over the horizon. The beauty of writing is to capture while simultaneously allowing the words to soar free and unfettered. We must not imprison them with our doubts and fears or suffocate them with ownership. We must allow them to pollinate, to morph, to migrate or to enjoy symbiotic relationships with other social insects. To do anything less is to deny them their true beauty.
How about you, have you caught any butterflies lately? Once captured were they as beautiful as they were free?
Ulla Hennig says
Karen,
your post was my first one to read this morning, and what a beauty to begin with!
And I love Robert’s comment. May I quote:
“That’s the act of publishing the work we’ve toiled over with such loving care. Where it lands, well, who knows? But my hope is that somewhere, someone will look up, see it, and be touched by the wonder.”
Karen, your work has been seen, and I am touched by the wonder. Thanks so much!
Ulla Hennig´s last blog post..My First Book Review
Joanna Young says
Well Ms Swim, I know I just love it when you let your words fly free! I watch them floating around the universe, with smiles, and colour, and courage in their wake 🙂
Joanna Young´s last blog post..Heroes, Ripple Effects and Community
Karen Swim says
All – your comments made my heart and imagination soar. Not sure how I got so lucky to be in the company of such talent, but thankful you let me play with you. 🙂
@Conor, your words truly resonate with me. It is so true that what worked before may not work in the now and w have to have the courage to break free of our boundaries. Thank you so much for that inspiration.
@Robert, your comment was indeed poetic and so beautifully moving. Can I get you to expand that into a post? 🙂 Lovely, lovely, lovely!
@Alina, ooohhh I love what you said! Yes, yes, yes, unless we can remember or capture that moment the fragments of words become simply that a piece of the puzzle but without the essence of what moved us initially. Oh my gosh, profound insight!
@Alex, as I read I smiled because although we’ve never met live (not yet- big grin) when I think of you I think of you in motion. I always picture you as ball of energy spreading rays of sunshine here and there. Your beauty would be difficult to capture as a still photo but could only be communicated by capturing the fluidity, grace and energy of you in action.
Alex Fayle | Someday Syndrome says
I feel like that almost every time I sit down and write fiction, which is why I so often block myself – I’m trying to create perfect in motion without allowing myself to create the caterpillar and to let it incubate in the cocoon for a while first. 😉
Alex Fayle | Someday Syndrome´s last blog post..Fear of an office job: Allison Day interview
Alina Popescu says
What a beautiful image, that of the free butterfly! The comparison with ideas and thought made me think of my fragmentariums (notebooks I used to write down interesting quotes when reading books). Whenever I read the quotes at a later date, something was missing: the state of mind and soul that made me connect with those particular words. That could not be captured in most cases 🙂
Alina Popescu´s last blog post..What I’ve been up to
Robert Hruzek says
Great analogy, Karen. But me bein’, y’know, me – I’m feelin’ sorta poetic today. So let’s carry that one a bit further, why don’t we?
I’m thinkin’ those words are more like butterflies than we think. The words we capture, and eventually place upon the page (or computer screen, or stone tablet, or whatever) mimic that amazing life cycle.
In a way, our words are like the caterpillar, whose sole purpose is to munch away and grow. Those words build upon each other until at some point they reach critical mass and voila – you have a coherent expression right there on the page.
Eventually the caterpillar enters the chrysalis stage, where everything that little fellow ate is changed in an amazing way. I like to think of the editing process as the chrysalis stage of our work.
Finally, that moment arrives when the chrysalis pops open and the colorful butterfly flies away, finally on its own to explore a bright new world and find its destiny (er, not to mention another butterfly!)
That’s the act of publishing the work we’ve toiled over with such loving care. Where it lands, well, who knows? But my hope is that somewhere, someone will look up, see it, and be touched by the wonder.
But then again… maybe that’s just me. 😀
Robert Hruzek´s last blog post..Facing Adversity
Conor says
Hi Karen,
That really made me smile, thank you 🙂 The images you paint with your words are truly gorgeous.
In trying to capture moments with our words, we often trap ourselves with rhyme, rhythm and structure. We allow ourselves to be at the mercy of formatting and aesthetics.
There is a powerful lesson here, letting the butterfly free and following behind without disturbing it, to trace it’s movements onto the page, trace it’s beauty into your words. The freedom is the key.
I often find myself imprisoned when writing songs, doing what worked in the past instead of following what is happening NOW, what I am feeling now. Thank you for a valuable lesson Karen.
Conor