familial flutter
Renato F. Bolo III
In all the years I have roamed the Earth, there has not been any natural phenomenon more graceful than the dance of a butterfly fluttering about in an unmoving room. That, in the most still of all landscapes, its wings cause that blowing wind gently breezing upon the rigid assortment of lilies, orchids, and sunflowers in a rural, secluded garden. That, in the most chaotic of scenes of the city, its lightness provides solace in an otherwise gloomy state of existence.
Its dance proclaims that nature lives,and nature breathes, even in the most antinature of settings. The essence of the Earth asserts its omnipresence and power over any artificial creation of humankind.
In special spirit, there is indeed something that draws my eyes to spectate the ever-elegant ballet of the winged entities of Rhopalocera. It is said that when they flutter near inside one’s home, local folklore comforts by signifying that people for whom one deeply cared are visiting from the unseen realm that co-exists with our own. Butterflies are the breathing forms of the loved ones we dearly miss, those who are now living in the paradise of the afterlife—or so the people of my homeland nostalgically claim.
With all the deepest sentiments, I embrace this belief, as it provides me reassurance that my grandmother, who flocked North years ago, continually asserts her everlasting, warm presence in my life—her spiritual company. Whenever a stunning butterfly would flutter near me, I would always admireit with heartfelt fondness.
“Welcome back, Mama. Thank you for your thoughtful visit.”
We must open our doors and let the butterflies in; we must open our homes to nature. Greet them with the gentleness of a familial hug, my superstitious relatives would always say.
I am proud to take part in keeping this tradition alive for it is beautifuland enchanting; it is heartrending and comforting; and it is a part of the soul of an ancestral culture spanning centuries in age. Through this and other beliefs, we remain kind to nature—knowing that it holds the secret to something profound and compelling beyond the fullest extent of our mortal knowledge and understanding.
Throughout varying times and periods across history, it is enthralling how the people of my homeland have thought of and continued to cultivate this mystical part of our reality. That, in the power of its magic, it remains a marvelous element of our local life as a culture of familial reverence, an aspect of our principles that will persist or as long as time marches.
Indeed, there resides a great degree of splendor in an unexplained wonder. Such beauty in the story of the flutter exists for there is no grounded reason behind it; there is merely pure belief in the earthly marvels of home and the celestial realm of those that cannot be seen.
RD Neotari (he/they) is an iskolar ng bayan tripling up as a poet and an essayist from Southeast Asia. He is passionate about the role of today's youth in global change, especially in raising awareness on different socio-eco-political conflicts and issues. When they're not writing, they're either buried in academic work or snuggled up with stress. He likes listening to both classical music and jazz, as well as attempting to successfully sing opera lyrics that he loves despite always hilariously failing to do so. You can find him on Twitter @rdneotariworks