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In my late 20's my dad passed away. It was a really challenging time. Just a few days before he died, I recall him asking me out of the blue if I believed in God. Now, this may not seem like a big question but if you knew my back story and that of my dad, you'd understand, for him to ask me this question was a pinnacle moment for both of us.
My reply, "God, the universe, some higher power... yes. I believe in that 100%"
He asked, "How can you be so sure."
I simply said, "Because there are butterflies."
That of course wasn't enough of an answer so I continued.
"Think about it. A butterfly is a metaphor for life. A tiny creature with a thousand tiny legs that clings to everything, sensing and feeling its way through life. It has a mission to find the highest tree, crawl out on a limb, build its own cocoon, and then have a metamorphosis to transform into a winged being with marks that look like eyes for survival, yet only live a day or two and die on its own. I think the Universe creates these things as a reminder that we are all connected and unified so, even when we aren't in our physical body, that connection never really dies."
The human experience is like that sometimes. We cling and hold onto things to make sense of life, and comfort ourselves, we go out on limbs to transform, we take risks that seem unnecessary. Yet when we do, we blossom into something more spectacular and take flight, even for short moments in our lives. And when we do, the feeling is glorious.
I look at this moth/butterfly and in those two black dots, I see the universe, I see fascia, I see myself... I see my dad.