Wake, butterfly

#33—It's time to take a break from this screen of brokenness.

Welcome to Mind Flexing, your weekly thought expedition to everywhere and anywhere. Strap on your boots (or put your feet up), take a deep breath, and let’s get flexing.

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Wake, butterfly —
it’s late, we’ve miles 
to go together.

                          — from On Love and Barley: Haiku of Bashō

Outside my window, the heavenly bamboo moves in the breeze and though the sun barely comes and goes, and the day is a cold 8°C, that outside world is calling me to venture into it. Soon I will leave you to do just that, but not before I tell you why. So many words have passed through my head in recent days—all the things I could write for you today—coming, then going, as

Paul Wittenberger

beautifully described this week, ‘for want of a pen’. In their wake, these words have tied themselves into a knot that I lack the stamina to unravel today.

It’s my own fault, really. I left my computer turned on with the mouse in reach of a 19-month-old who has grown taller than I realised. How little fingers so deftly find the exact things that shouldn’t be clicked is a mystery—one that has resulted in four days and nights of watching the spinning circles and percentage trackers of computer repair processes, with days of reprogramming yet to come.

And so, rather than force my tale onto this screen of brokenness, my mind has sought comfort in the words of the revered haiku poet Matsuo Bashō and his entreaty to a butterfly. So few words, yet a world of meaning.

Ensō, by Alia Parker

The imagery of a butterfly and a poet on a Spring journey is a light that has brought some joy into the mundane process of uploading and downloading. A butterfly, representative of metamorphosis—discovery and change; a Japanese symbol for love, joy, resilience, hope and freedom. A creature whose time on this earth is fleeting, a flash of beauty then a melancholic reminder of impermanence. If life be a journey, it will be all the more pleasant with a butterfly.

Wake, butterfly —
it’s late, we’ve miles
to go together.

And here I will leave you with those thoughts to go and lie outside on the grass and listen to the call of the lyrebird, because soon the mating season will be over and that marvellous sound of 1980’s laser battles echoing from the bush will go silent for another year.

When I return next week, with a fully functioning computer, I have something to tell you about Bashō and the act of pilgrimage.

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Things I’ve enjoyed on Substack this week

• For Want of a Pen—by

  Paul Wittenberger

  I think we all can empathise with Paul’s short poem.

• What About ‘The Sixth Sense’s’ Other Twist—by

  Cole Haddon

  Cole explains something quite unique about the way this famous movie is told.

• Collecting Cowries—by

  Kate Mildenhall

  Words paired beautifully with dreamy sunsets in Broome.

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  Etymology Monday

  For those who missed it, this week’s word is: OK

  And it’s got quite a playful origin.

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  Thank you for Mind Flexing with me. If you enjoyed this essay, please subscribe, comment, click the ❤️ button, or share it with someone who would appreciate it. I’ll be back next week. Until then, keep 💪.