Okay, maybe “Bad” is a bit harsh for this well-loved and well-worn metaphor.
But think about this: the caterpillar turns into a Butterfly once.
If we continue to use the Caterpillar/Butterfly metaphor, we will think that after any major transition (or maybe even a minor one) we are done. We have arrived. There is no more growing to do.
And I’ll admit: the green mush the caterpillar turns into in the cocoon before the butterfly thing? Perfect.
Humans, however, are a bit more complex. We transform in straight lines (Kindergarten through High School and on, maybe), in loops and circles (see The Spiral Path); we backtract. We wake up, and then we forget everything we know. All the time. We dream, we leap, we get scared, we fall back – and some days we do all of that and much much more in any 12 hour period.
So what should we adopt?
Blue crabs shed their protective hard shells (when mature) once a month. In between shedding and rehardening of their shells, they make tasty morsels for just about everything that comes their way – including other crabs. Now there’s a metaphor for you!
Snakes shed their skins in order to grow and in some instances to rid themselves of pests. Not bad. It builds into the metaphor the idea that as we grow we are going to lose some of our old friendships and attachments – even some we have hardly thought of as pests up until the shed. When the snake sheds, her coloring is more vibrant – she looks new! Then, as she grows and gets ready for the next round, the old skin becomes dull again. GREAT metaphor. And what’s even better is that the snake has long been considered a power symbol of many early goddesses. Okay! Lady Snake has much going for our choosing her as change symbol.
Further research shows that spiders, cicadas and carpenter ants also shed their skins as they grow. But there is the squeemish factor. I know I could never get a positive review on any of these from Daughter, and wouldn’t want her left out (not that she’d necessarily give a positive review to snakes either, but snakes are more liable to stay outside where they’re supposed to live and not invade her territory).
Back to the caterpillar and butterfly. I will admit there is something about butterflies – they waft along, they are beautiful. So we could make up a new story that the butterfly, when it’s ready for transition, turns into a rainbow: unearthly, evanescent, magical.
What do you think? What metaphors do you use to encourage yourself in times of transition?
Change is a funny thing. I thought change was going to be moving into a new house. But the real change is that we’re staying put. And it still feels like change because it’s different than the movie playing in my head. Which, in the end, is where all reality starts. Tammy Vitale
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Meg – you are absolutely a goddess – that definitely makes you a snake person! ;]
I enjoyed that, Tammy 🙂
I am not sure if I am a snake person, but I like your debunking of the ‘turn into a butterfly once and then you’re done’ myth for humans!
oh tammy… my most favorite of all your delicious sentences is, “Then, as she grows and gets ready for the next round, the old skin becomes dull again.”
Oh how profoundly true this is.
I find this happening over and over again as I begin a period transition. My old life is unappealing, dull, and i’m itching to shed the last remnants so that my new self can shine through.
my trouble begins when I yearn for transition and change just for the sake of change itself. the snake would never shed its skin before it’s ready… before the new skin underneath is ready for the sunlight.
this reminds me not to seek dullness where there is still shine.
thank you, soul sister.
Depends on how I feel. If I am in a state of transformation where EVERYTHING I once knew seems destroyed, when my pain is terrifying unto death, the crysalis is the perfect metaphor: what looks like death to the caterpillar is birth to the butterfly (however that goes). Just went through such a period of initiation the past couple of years.
The snake and insects and blossoms and the greening of spring, the phases of moon, they all have their place in this goddess life. After the shedding of a shell or skin, the creature must protect its vulnerable self for a while, retreat, rest, hide. That’s important too. Good post!
I love butterflies, but always had a discomfort with the metaphor, too. You have expressed exactly the discomfort I have with the metaphor!
The replacements of snakes, etc. are great ideas. You ask what is my metaphor…and after thinking it must be the simple flower.
A plant makes the effort to bloom, to reproduce, to show beauty over and over again. Even when there is no flower, a subtle beauty remains. When the flower blooms, spectacular! Success! But the flower goes away eventually, while the plant remains…and the cycle of another flower is promised.
Thank you for explaining why I never liked the butterfly metaphor!
Oh my goodness! This essay is priceless!
I’ve always enjoyed the butterfly metaphor but now I can see that it *is* lacking and you have provided many attractive alternatives. I think my favorite of yours is the snake.
Have you read Elizabeth Lesser’s Broken Open? If you haven’t, you would LOVE it!
She talks about the Phoenix Process as a way of healing and becoming more of our true self.
The phoenix, of course, is the mythical creature who renewed his quest for his true self every 500 years. He knew the new way could only be found with the death of his worn-out habits, defenses, and beliefs, so he build a pyre, sat in flames, and burned to death.
Okay, so maybe we can’t borrow a page from that part of the story, but we can form rituals that allow us to discard what no longer serves us and create a new being.
That, I think, is the Wylde Woman Way.
Tammy, this post got me thinking, so thank you for it. The caterpillar/butterly metaphor is used a lot – probably too much. What I LIKE about it is the bit about now helping the butterly to rid itself of the cocoon — it needs that struggle-time to build its strength. If that struggle is circumvented by some well-meaning person (who, say, cuts open the cocoon for it, saving it all that effort) – the butterfly is never strong enough to fly. So, there may be PARTS of the metaphor that work… the rest are perhaps best left.
I also love the snake metaphor and how shiny and new she looks once her skin is shed. That’s gold!
Metaphors are so powerful, and helpful. Even if we can’t say what something IS, we can say what it is LIKE… When I ran leadership workshops in corporateland, we would do an exercise using metaphor cards. We would apply ourselves to an issue or question (“leadership is like…” for instance) and using a set of beautiful metaphor cards, we would explore this group in roving pairs. It was one of the most magical, and useful, exercises I ever had the pleasure to facilitate. So creative – and yet so practical.
Thank you for this discussion on metaphors – really enjoyed it!