Indra’s Web

Sometimes people are like butterflies. Pretty, prim, poised and stunning. They sweep in to life with confidence that the breeze they ride is sure and steady.

And there are others like spiders. Sleek, lethal, confident and cunning. They spin meticulous webs honed with professional precision.

I've seen many spiders clash with butterflies. I've seen a butterfly torn by the wind. I've seen a spider's web destroyed, and with it a home.

And the worst of it all--I have seen spiders try to fly like butterflies, and butterflies try to crawl like spiders. Our livelihood depends on our identities. And yet there are those that try to survive as something else, simply because they cannot see themselves for who they really are.

Why do we waste so much time fighting with one another when the greatest challenge is the war we have within ourselves? Why do we pick sides, align against another, and pursue disgrace to strangers when we are entirely lost to who we are. I want to guide home the hearts of people who have lost their way. But who am I, to fight for which I can never possess?

I'm neither a butterfly nor a spider. I'm a moth, whipped into a frenzy by the light, careening in the symphony of night. I chase a dream, an ideal, which waltzes parallel to reality. Careful, collected, and innocent, I dance among the stars, far away from the cold, hard ground beneath.

The ironic beauty of perspective is granted to those who watch rather than partake. I watch my insect bretheren fight amongst each other, wishing only that I could tear my flapping form away from my moon for but one second. Could I help? Could I make a difference?

The days pass, the moon sets and through all of this there is one truth. We are all so small in a world of giants. If only we were to find a common ground that we could see the beauty and the intelligence in our differences.

Would that be so hard? I mused so quietly to the spider that hovered over me. It considered for a moment the challenge I presented. I died that day, but I started something deep inside my kin. I planted a seed in the spider's heart. A seed that would someday birth a new generation of spiders and butterflies that would share in diversity.

Maybe then we would know peace.