She dreamed she was in an enchanted forest filled with trees as old as time. A light and friendly mist wove its way in peaceful wisps about their trunks. She found herself amidst a colony of what she took to be butterflies but which she realised, upon closer inspection, were birds. Beautiful, deep dusty pink, origami birds; each one perfectly and intricately folded and with its own unique multi-coloured geometric pattern upon its wings. Her head lifted skyward, she gazed in wonder at the magical beings.
Suddenly, her father, a kind and loving man, appeared beside her and reached out to catch one of the birds. For a reason she could not fathom, her father then pushed the sides of the bird with his hands to squash it into a kind of circle shape. He then lifted his hands, opened them up and released the bird.
It became clear that he had thought the bird would instantly regain its natural shape and fly. But it did not. Instead, it remained crumpled and squashed and began falling toward the forest floor. In horror, he caught the bird and lifted and released it again but the same thing happened. Again and again he tried this, wishing for the bird to find its original shape and fly. The woman watched on in speechless distress.
Finally, after many attempts, the origami bird pushed itself back into its true folds and flew into the trees, content to be back where it belonged, living as it had been intended to live, offering its beauty and magic to the world.
Questions I’m asking:
As individuals, how has our unique and natural shape been distorted over time? What has that meant for our lives? How can we begin to recover ourselves?
Collectively, how have we lost or turned our back on our natural place in the web of life? What has this meant for all of us? What has it meant for the planet we inhabit? How can we begin to return to our natural place in things?