Butterflies flutter by... mostly
Then I realized they were butterflies.
And about every 5 seconds, one would smack against my windshield. Ping! Ping!
This changed the whole scene instantly. I was not gazing out at a tranquil scene of the lone road winding through farm country amid drifting petals. I was witnessing mass execution of a swarm of innocent butterflies at the hands of human technology. Worse, I was causing their deaths. One is reminded of Shakespeare's words: "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
Being on retreat for an extended period puts one in a very open state. I began to cry. I debated pulling over in the hopes that the butterflies would soon finish crossing the road and I could go ahead without killing them. But this was some kind of enormous mass movement-- there had been a cloud of butterflies going by for a good 5 minutes and they showed no sign of declining numbers. Who knew how long it would take?
Meanwhile, I felt sick each time I heard a ping! I also noticed that they were leaving little splatters on the windshield. I was becoming splattered. It is interesting to note that one term the Buddha uses for a person with perfect morality is "unsplattered."
Then I realized that crying was not helping. Not only was I still killing butterflies, but I was making myself a less safe driver. Perhaps my foggy eyes would cause me to miss the brakelights ahead of me, or fail to notice a wandering deer.
My eyes dried. I drove on, moving steadily toward home. I fully acknowledged that taking this route using this means of travel was simply going to result in some damage. It is unavoidable; we will all take life in order to live.
And someday it will be my turn to stop living. Everything that is born will die. Those butterflies did not die in vain because they helped me see the lesson of impermanence. This is nature.
