The Butterfly................Effect!!!!

     I am amazed by the fact that I even remember this incident. Sometimes, the most puny and insignificant things are preserved in our memories just like prehistoric mosquitos remain perfectly untouched inside amber. Actually some things are meant to be remembered by us. Some things come to us, and stay in our memories cause they are important for reasons we can't predict beforehand. If only we could have our eyes open to all those little things, then we'd find a road to greatness. It's been exactly a year. I remember it though like it was yesterday.


    I was broken, by a very sad situation. I used to spend my whole day outside on our porch. I was listening  to music, writing down on my laptop, gazing the stars, writing lyrics and songs with my guitar,admiring the great view of the nature beyond our porch. Above all I was drown in a strange mixture of sorrow with disappointment and indifference . 2-3 nights I got totally drunk only to find out that getting drunk serves nothing. This kept happening for 2 whole months. Work in the morning and then spending time on that porch until 4 in the morning (insomnia was firstly introduced to me that period and became such a great friend until today). Sometimes my mind would wonder for hours (literally), only to return back to my body for material reasons. At the time, I would question everyone and everything. I was searching for logical answers to questions that were illogical by nature. I wanted to understand the reasons of the pain I felt, and I was trying to figure out ways to escape. But no one can escape the inevitable even if he can see it coming.

     It was 10 in the morning. For another night I had slept only for three hours. I had seen the dawn from the window of my room at 7 the same night. I had a day off from work. So I would naturally sleep until the time I had decided to wake up. Not that day though. Outside my window there was a heavy storm taking place. The raindrops would furiously hit the glass of my window. And the wind was viciously blowing outside making it impossible for me to sleep any more. So, since I was used to small portions of sleep per day, I decided to stand up. I walked to my computer, chose a collection of soothing and relaxing ambient music and turned the volume to the max. At the time nobody was at home so no one would be disturbed. The music could be heard all over the house. Since I was rudely awaken I needed some coffee. I prepared myself a glass of strong coffee (Greek Frappe rules) to overcome the absence of sleep and walked outside to our porch. No logical man would stay outside while a storm was on it's peak. I was no ordinary nor a reasonable man those days.


     I silently admired the storm for long. I enjoyed the lightnings which would give light to the moody colors of the clouds. I let the rain touch me. I was protected under that porch, but when the wind changed direction, many raindrops would soak me. And I loved it. Under that situation I realized one thing. Everybody is afraid of the rain. We will do anything to hide when it starts to rain. From raincoats and umbrellas to locking ourselves under a roof so that no water can touch us. Strangely, nature acts the same way too. When the storms begin all the creatures are hidden. No bugs or insects. No cats or dogs. No birds or any other creature will step outside its' nest when it is raining. And those unlucky to be forgotten outside they search for shelter as soon as possible. Rain brings panic even to nature and it surely empties the cities and the fields and mountains. Yeah. Rain. The reason for universal brotherhood.


     The fact that I had been staring at a rainy scenery for some time had allowed my troubled mind to wonder off to some positive and beautiful thoughts. But those thoughts were interrupted by a strange image.I escaped that optimistic trance when something passed before of my eyes. I had to focus on a small flying object. That little thing was gliding through the air. It was maneuvering between the thick raindrops, without it being very successful in doing it though. It had not gone far. I stood up and reached for it. I was flying back and forth my previous and my current position. It was a butterfly. An astonishingly beautifully mesmerizing butterfly. It was quite bigger thanthe ones I used to see around. All I could see were its' colored wings. Like someone had mixed some colors on a canvas. In fact not even a professional painter would be able to find such a proportionally correct balance in the colors. A perfect circle was painted in each of those paper thin wings. The circles had a light blue color while the rest of the wings were coated with a bright yellow shade. The were also some spots and lines all over the wings, in red and green. For the first time in my life I had noticed that although the paintings in each butterfly are different, on the same butterfly those paintings are completely identical to both wings.


     The poor little creature kept on flying forward and backwards. I was standing in the middle of our yard. Soaked to the bone from the rain, watching a butterfly suffering from the pouring rain. I thought of capturing her and providing shelter for it until the storm faded. But I could not do it. Such a beautiful creation should never be captured, not even for a single second. After all the life span of a butterfly is limited, and captivity is not a proper way to live that short life. Funnily it would not abandon the area and me. I was waiting for it to fly away so that I would take my turn to get in the house. It continued repeatedly flying the same route. I had made a pact with myself not to leave until the butterfly left first. It seemed that the same pact had be made from both sides cause it would not abandon me too. I was a human. The worst that could happen to me was a cold. But for the butterfly it was a struggle for survival. It could be swept away by the wind at any given moment.  Or dragged down by the rain or collapse under the weight of its' wet wings.

     Since the creature was stubborn enough to risk it's existence just to fulfill my pact, I stood there in the middle of the a rainstorm trying not to move much so that I would not scare it away. Thankfully there was no one around to see me standing in the rain. I would surely be "advised" if not ordered, to walk inside the house, not to catch a cold or even worse pneumonia. I would not do it,as long as I had a partner doing the same for me. Inevitably I got to notice more about that newly made friend. It was flapping its' wings continuously but it did not move fast. In fact it would take much effort from it to move just 1-2 meters. It would sometimes go higher just to dive back again. It would be moved aside by wind and then it would require double the energy and time to return back to it's starting point. And that movement of the wings was a desperation. No rhythm. They would randomly go up and down just to maintain the balance. I remembered how elegantly the birds fly. From the eagle and the hawk to the little canary and the sparrow, all the birds fly like pros. They can glide high and dive fast with surgical precision. I remembered the anatomy of the birds. Feathers and a tail for orientation and aerodynamic shape. Light body and hollow bones so that they can be as light as possible. But this butterfly, which was fighting to barely move forward had none of these. It only had some big wings shaped in a non flight friendly shape. There were no muscles or bones. Just a clumsy little bulk of beauty. That tiny creature was not born to fly. That was for sure. It was born to present it's beauty. Where birds could present their flying skills, it could easily land on a branch and be admired from the whole animal kingdom for it's breathtaking beauty. But it did not choose this way of living. Where all the birds were hidden due to the severity of the storm, that creature with the pitiful way of flying, was trying to survive. It could have been waiting in the safety of a dry place. Only the butterfly knew the reasons for what it was attempting, nevertheless it was still daring something which in other cases would had been a suicide.


      Time had flown so quickly. I had already lost the sense of time being charmed and at the same time sympathized by the butterfly's abnormal behavior. Rain would not even bother me anymore. I got used to the feeling of the blessing called rain. I was deeply intrigued by that brave butterfly. Much more than I had been intrigued by human behaviors that period. Usually we see those "bugs" flying over green fields and rolling rivers. Over fantastically created sceneries and mind blowing landscapes. The ideal of a butterfly was lying in the fact that it was flying beside me, inside an environment unfriendly even for a "mighty" human. I followed again the lifeline of my pet-friend. It was possible that it had learned to fly not many days before, due to their short lives. It could have even learned to fly the very same day it was risking its' life staying with me. Self sufficient and beautiful creature. That beauty. It was a product of one of the most mysterious transformations in nature. A disgusting caterpillar (in most cases), becomes an attracting colorful butterfly. But the "metamorphosis" of the butterfly is not only happening for admiration. A caterpillar is nothing more than slow moving, ugly earthworm. Its' only purpose is feeding and survival. Yet that "useless" bug ends up begetting wings, and the ability to fly. Also it becomes a subject for jealousy (if ever animals could have human emotions) between the other insects and  animals.


      I thought that me and my friend would go on for ages playing with each others desire for company. But as suddenly as that small rascal had entered my life, that quickly it was lost. Like it had found some secret energy inside it, it flew away. It got mixed with the scenery and soon was out of my sight. It reminded me of human interactions. They never last. Cause there is always someone who tries for the best of both, and someone who abandons you for "his" best. At least it wasn't me who was an oath breaker. How could it be possible?? I felt the feeling of desertion. I was left alone by a butterfly and I felt lonely. The truth is that I had always been lonely. It was the company of that flying friend that forced me to forget that. I was still getting pounded by raindrops. Little did I care anymore. I did not abandon my post. I sat down on the ground, trying to win myself back. The encounter with the butterfly left me thinking again. For a strange reason I found my self mirrored in the wings of that butterfly. I was the butterfly. Not only because I was sitting now, on a puddle of water under the wrath of the heavy with water clouds. I was that butterfly for my whole life.I had been fighting for a whole lifetime for my dreams, even when the others were telling me that there were no dreams to fight for. I had always been the one who would swim against the current for what he believed. And like that butterfly I would not quit even when the odds were all against me. I had been alone, like butterflies do. And in terms of REAL life, I was useless like a butterfly. I was not born to "fly" like the rest of the over-pompous workaholic Phd bearers. I was born to do something completely useless (like the butterfly), which was utterly necessary for me though. I was born to dream.

      I didn't feel pity for that creature. I did not feel any feelings. It could have been already dead, drifted afar by the storm. But it had lived free. That short life that was gifted to it, was more than worthy. And in the end it had achieved one big and noble thing. For its' size and it's destiny that colorful butterfly was a hero. A legend among the butterflies. With these on my mind, I finally found a reason to get inside. I did pay attention to my drenched clothes, and my dirty look. Little did they matter. I had met a friend that day. A friend who taught me to fight for what I was believing even if that was against my nature. Even when that seemed impossible. If a butterfly could defy the laws of nature, then surely I could defy the nature of laws (those unwritten laws that people create to degrade your dreams). Something small, gave to my dreaming such a great boost that day.