Where do I start? Grabbing thoughts is a bit like catching butterfly’s in a net. You can see it floating around but you have to chase it, swing a few times before you catch it.
I guess the mind numbness is a way of not feeling anything, it’s a safe guard. The head id filled with these butterflies of thought and the catcher is too overwhelmed to get off his butt and start catching them. So I decide to start to capture some and give him a hand.
Butterfly one: Has a couple of pictures of babies on its wings. This butterfly was easy to catch as it kept flying in circles right in front of the thinker. It is like he enjoys watching it but didn’t want to catch it. I could interpret this as he loves his grandchildren, happy to have them around but doesn’t want to raise them. If he could it, he would be responsible.
I look around and see one butterfly, flying alone and further away from the others. So, I investigated as I was curious as to what type of thought it might be. Getting closer, I can see that it’s an angry butterfly. It attacks aphids, dives on flowers and the other butterflies don’t want to be near it. I draw closer and see that it has three boys’ faces on its wings. It’s way out here on its own. I notice that the picture of the boys kept changing. They are young then appear to age but it constantly flicks back to when the children were young. The thinker likes it, just doesn’t know what to do with it. It can’t be guided; it’s too radical to deal with. Probably hopes that it will settle down eventually and join the other butterflies. This area must be his “too hard basket”, he cares about it or it wouldn’t be there. There was obviously something that happened in the past.
As I gaze across the meadow I see one black butterfly amongst all the coloured ones. I walk towards it and it moves away as if it is avoiding me. This happened every time. I questioned “what is this one hiding?” To catch it, I will have to use the thinkers net. He happily passes it to me. Now, I stalk this black sheep amongst the flock. He is very evasive and difficult to catch but I too am stubborn and determined to catch him. Soon, he surrenders to my efforts and is caught in the net. I gave across at him and see that he is playing dead. I’m patient, so I wait, but he remains still. I reach in and scoop him up into my hand and gently hold him. I will have to look deeper into this one. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and connect with the butterfly. It takes a little time but soon the feelings flow within. This is an inner child butterfly, one that’s scared, self-destructive, feels different and abnormal. It pushes those away that try to get close to him. Staying on the outer, never staying too long in any one place. As soon as something or someone comes too close, it takes flight. I think the thinker takes pity on this one and gives it freedom to grow and explore amongst the others and he hopes that maybe one day, the colours of the other butterfly’s may rub off on it and it will lose its darkness. I look even closer and raise the creature up into the light and I can see that it has in fact a wide array of colours. Indeed, the colours have rubbed off. All he needs is to be made aware of his true potential and “let go”, to take that chance and to soar.
I stood back in the field and could clearly see large red butterfly gracefully fluttering along. It appeared to have a variety of reds within its wings. This one actually flew into my outstretched hands. As soon as its feet touched my hands, I felt a warm sensation begin with my hand and then move through my entire body and soul. This one was love. I felt drawn to its vibrant wings and could see a multitude of faces flash across them. There was one face that I noticed had flashed across more frequently than the others. She had a warm smile upon her face and her eyes reflected love. Obviously, this woman is the centre of his life, everything else radiated from her.
As I stood amongst the silent fluttering’s of wings that danced around me, I was privileged to see a strand phenomenon occur. The thinker suddenly stood up and walked into the middle of the butterflies. His eyes were closed, arms stretched out so that his body formed a cross like stance. He began to hum a monotone sound, softly at first but gradually increased in strength. The butterfly’s seemed to sense the energy being created. First, they swarmed around him. Then their fluttering’s and speed increased and they appeared to zoom around him in a unified motion. They was traveling so fast, my eyes could hardly focus as the colours kind of blended together.
The thinker suddenly stopped humming and time appeared to stand still. Each butterfly was frozen in mid-flight. Then, without warning, the thinker returned his humming to its original tone. Immediately, the butterflies began to land on his head, arms and chest. All were calm and rested upon him without flinching, lasting several minutes before they all simultaneously took flight. Rather than returning to the meadow and scattering, they remained in a harmonious group, fluttering gently amongst each other. I couldn’t help but notice that all of the butterfly’s colours had changed. There were no distinctive colours that I could identify; it was as if all the colours had blended together.
The thinker had dealt with these emotional thoughts and had brought calm and balance to the meadow once again.