Reading What Rules

Nov 29, 2004 18:22 # 29641

rosyxxx *** feels excited about...

Sulphur butterflies!

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I was looking up the word sulphur...when I came across 'sulphur butterflies'...

They are medium-sized butterflies that make their appearance in early spring, and do a specific kind of mating dance. The female and male (always) spiral-dance upward into the air, and the female ascends higher and higher, until the male drops like a plane loosing altitude to the ground. The female descends much more slowly, catching various air as to give the male time to find another mate other than herself. These butterflies are vegetarians, and eat bean plants among other things.

thumbnail pics...


photo follows:


I just think they are kinda cool! It's not like you see butterflies a whole lot these days... the last ones I saw were Monarchs. Two flew across the hood of my car while I was driving to meet some Rainbow People to give them some of the crystals I dug in Arkansas, so they could make necklaces to sell... the butterflies flew up, like augurs of a good journey... I wish butterflies were around more often.

*wishing quietly*

My mind is made up...not like my bed, which is a mess.

Mar 09, 2005 15:07 # 33998

everybodys_fool *** smiles...

Re: Sulphur butterflies

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I love butterflies! I just thought i'd share that since you were posting about butterflies. I've actually wished to be a butterfly because they're so graceful, and beautiful. *sigh* why can't everything in life be as beautiful and graceful as a butterfly?
Supposedly, if a butterfly crosses your path it's supposed to bring good luck... but i'm not sure if that's true, did you have good luck after that butterfly crossed your path? haha, i feel akward talking about butterflies. *laughs to herself*
Hope you see me butterflies! haha

Now we speak with ruined tongues, and the words we say aren't meant for anyone. -bright eyes-

Mar 14, 2005 11:32 # 34202

rosyxxx *** is unsure about...

RE: Sulphur butterflies

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Ah! What a beautiful memory... I wonder if it is coincidental at all that you would bring up this post 'everybodys_fool'... but thank you. You seem like a very good person with a heart of gold, and I think the universe somehow spoke to you and me.

I am waiting for spring to get here, and for the butterflies to come... so I can open my windows onto the sun, and the green leaves, the snails, and the irridescent beetles, maybe another cicada resting on my windowpane...

And to paraphrase an HaIku I once wrote:

Butterfly of time
resting on my windowpane
his eyes pierce my thoughts.

Except that dragonflys in American Indian lore, I think, are for protection, or they are to tell you that you have unfinished business... someone correct me on this if I am wrong.

I not only got a chance to click on the links I had originally placed for the butterflies, but it reminded me of my poem: "Yellow" that I wrote for my mother after her death due to suicide. She had had CUPS, cancer of undetermined primary source, and when the cancer came back... one day, as she was alternately vomiting in a bowl and losing control of her bowels in her favorite chair, she asked me not to resusitate her if I ever found her dead. I said I could not make that kind of promise.

But, eventually, she killed herself. She hung herself with a rope from our deck, next to the post where a plastic butterfly was pinned. But three days before that, a beautiful yellow moth arrived on our front door step, the one where the skunk had previously taken up residence and kept us from entry for a while... and on the third day the moth died. Three days after mom's death, a turtle arrived on the patio where her body had hung.

A friend of my sister's who was an Indian shaman, said that in American Indian lore, the turtle symbolized new life, eternal life, and the mother... and that it was the universe's way of saying that she was okay. A friend of my father's in the Jewish faith sat Kadish for my mother as well, because that is similar to what Tibetan Buddhists do to help the deceased find their way through the Bardo states, past all of the demons and the dead-ends present in the early Bon religion upon which Tibetan Buddhism was based.

And I am reminded of what a psychiatrist said to me once, when I was struggling with various issues, among them, someone suggesting that I was a burden upon this world, and that if I wanted to commit suicide they would help me... that maybe I should follow my mother to the otherside. They said that she was in Hell for committing suicide. They said they were only playing 'Devil's Advocate', but I don't know for sure...and I no longer want to know the answer to that question. I just want them to go to the light. That is where I am trying to head, but I fly too close for comfort, sometimes, and then my wings get burned.

So, I have seen a lot of 'signs' trying to push me in the direction of suicide lately... because if I were to die that way, the blame could be pinned upon no one but me, and this nasty cycle of hatred would continue... but it needs to stop, before our hearts finally stop.

Once, when I was sixteen, 21 years ago, I drove my car off of Signal Mountain in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I was dead for a few seconds from shock. My heart stopped. And what I saw was not a rebirth, but an emptiness, a blackness that I did not want to see. I think it would have been different if it had been my time to go... but what I saw kind of paralleled what the med students in the movie Flatliners saw. I saw that movie much later in my life, and I caught my breath.

As a result, I have been of the opinion, since my near-death experience, that suicide is not the answer for me... not to say it is never the answer, for animals do it to ease their pain... but I have absolutely no intention of killing myself. Ever.Lets just make sure we are clear upon that fact.

My mother did, because she was in so much excruciating physical pain, and it hurt to watch it... so I know it hurt her immensely... and I believe that if God exists, he has forgiven her...but it doesn't really matter to me. I forgive her. I think it is enough to have your loved ones safe within your heart after they are gone, and there, they are in a place of love...hopefully.

I know within my heart and soul that my mother is in a good place. I don't know if that is Heaven, or if she lingers here in limbo smelling the spring flowers all year round, since time on other planes is irrelevant for the most part. Someone who did a crystal healing on me once, said that my mother was in the Akashic Hall of records, as a sort of Librarian. I had more pleasant images of her, than of the librarian in Borges Ficciones, which was the basis, in part, for the book: House of Leaves. i feel as if I have been wandering those hallways... lately...

Some things, some times, get a little twisted and distorted, and the more you stare at them, the more blind you become to the truth. I see where I have failed myself and others in my intentions... and I seem to continually do so. But I don't so much expect forgiveness, as I envision myself basking in "the greath Murakami tradition of irrelevance", as someone called shopgal, so wisely said to me once upon a time here on the NAO.

I have not gone anywhere, nor shall I...unless asked to do so by people whom I trust. I am - my -

sooty gray dove

, hiding in camoflauge... and beginning to wipe the soot off of her wings. My mother loves me, and I do miss her, and yet all of this talk about ghosts that I have indulged in, and people's posts about suicide and other such things, the stuff about human excrement, vampires and werewolves... it isn't where I want my head to be...

So, if anyone thinks I am a drama queen, maybe consider that something about my vulnerability and carelessness draws the drama to me, and I watch it for a while, like a cat watches a pendulum swing, thinking about how we are all somewhere on the food chain. It is distracting. I lose sight of what it is that is really and truly important. I periodically do lose sight of such things, for I am not perfect; nor do I want to strive for perfection anymore.

I just want to be free to be me, as a dear, dear friend said the other night to me. Sometimes it takes the combined efforts of the universe, and the ones that love you to bring you back, time and time again to where your heart and soul truly rest.

Don't get me wrong, there is a bit of hatred still resting in my heart, but I try to soothe it daily. I figure if I cradle it like a little baby in my mind, eventually it will go away, because it feels loved. Or, it will become something new... like a friend from afar... because there are some people I don't mind forgiving, but I never want to ever associate with them again, and I will not.

Forgiveness doesn't happen over night, and sometimes it takes years... to stop trying to understand why someone has lived their life the way they have; but I was wrong to moralize about how they should live their lives, and conversely, so they were as well, to moralize to me.

I guess we all are hypocrites. No one is exempt. And it isn't so much about forgiveness, as it is letting it go... and it needs to be let go, like a tiny green caterpillar put safely to rest under a tree, so that he may climb the tree, build a cocoon, and one day emerge as the beautiful butterfly he is...

This 'eye for an eye', 'tooth for a tooth' stuff is messed the fuck up, and I have been indulging in it as well.

And yet, there is still: Hope for the Flowers... to borrow the title of a book about two caterpillars - Yellow and Stripe. Stripe, if I remember correctly, keeps struggling up the hill, while Yellow says goodbye, and goes back down the hill to climb a tree and build her cocoon. One day, she emerges, wings wet, sparkling like the eternal final diamond of the mind, and flies to her friend Stripe for a split second before she flies off and leaves him.

Stripe raises up, at first not recognizing her, and in disbelief, gazes at the wonder she has become. Finally, he realizes who this butterfly is... and he goes down the hill to build his own cocoon. And they each live their lifes free of the constraints of wingless existence.

When the time comes, we shall all build our cocoons, and emerge on the otherside, till then, we should enjoy how brief and beautiful life is...

Now, I am awfully tired, exhausted from writing this post, but it is happy exhaustion. And I have things to do. I have a bed to finish making, bills to pay, and baby shower gifts to finish, for the tiny young one about to emerge from the cocoon of his mother's womb.

A butterfly is a symbol of transformation, and we all seem to go through many transformations. Apparently, a few of us seem to need another. I've been down this path of misery again and again and again, and I am tired of it. So tired. So very tired. I am sick of seeing nothing but the 'fireswamp' surrounding me, and ROUS's everywhere... I am tired of falling in quicksand. I see the edge of the forest now, and I see the trees.

I am heading to Max's for insight and a cup of tea. Preferably Ereclea's Arabian Charm tea. It isn't my favorite of the three Ereclea teas that I have, but it is what I have left from my trip to Italy, where, incidentally, I saw nothing but moths... but wished for butterflies.

I hope that I will see a butterly soon.

My mind is made up...not like my bed, which is a mess.

This post was edited by rosyxxx on Mar 14, 2005.

Mar 15, 2005 20:09 # 34250

everybodys_fool *** replies...

Re: RE: Sulphur butterflies

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I'm soo sorry, and i know that my smypathy won't end your pain. You've made me realize a lot of things just from this touching post.

I used to think my life was horrible and that i had so many problems. But now i've realized how much worse others lives are, and that i should be content with my life because i have a lot of things that others don't.

I hope that everything goes well with you and that you don't take the same path your mother did it. (even though your mother did it for reasonable reasons). i'm soo sorry once again.

Now we speak with ruined tongues, and the words we say aren't meant for anyone. -bright eyes-

Mar 15, 2005 21:26 # 34256

andromacha *** wants to know...

Re: RE: Sulphur butterflies

Rosy, your post has deeply touched me. I can't and don't want to dare to imagine what you must have gone through, first seeing your mother suffer so much, and later committing suicide. I guess it must have been one of the worst pains you've had to endure in your life.

I know that losing a dear one like that must be a deep tragedy, and as I said, I can't even know what you must have gone through. I am sorry that you had to endure that.

Once again I feel like wondering why the good ones, why the people who are loving, caring and sweet to the others have to suffer and be delivered certain blows by life.

A friend, not a very close one, but still a person I judge quite special was diagnosticated cancer 3 years ago. He is 27 now and the doctors said that, since the cancer is spread in several organs, it is useless to try with some more terapy, and they suggested for him to try to make the best of what he has still to live - which is around 3 years.

I have known you for not very long, just like I haven't known him for very long, but both of you seem two special persons. And I don't think that you deserve any of what life has been giving you until now.

This makes me think of an Italian poet; he lived between 1700 and 1800 and was a decadent poet. Nothing similar to Baudelaire or the French or English decadent poets... He felt mother nature as something that is not nurturing and caring towards the human beings, but as something very hostile. He lost the only woman he had ever loved due to TBC and I guess that this reinforced his convictions.

And yet, even if the question is rhetorical and many could find it childish or stupid I am here wondering why in the world good people have always to suffer when most of the time the evil ones, the ones who make their best to make other people suffer... why they don't have such a horrible punishment by "mother nature"?

Italy no longer accepts illegal immigrants. Mr. B sink their boats!!!!!!!

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