EN-Short Story- A butterfly's dream

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Information about this story:

A presentation of the research institute "Andishe Online Germany (AOG)."

Excerpt from the book "The Miracle of Guadalupe"

Author: Faramarz Tabesh

Date of completion/publication of the original Persian version: Winter 2006/Fall 2019

Publication date of the English version: April 17, 2024

The following text was translated from German into English by Faramarz Tabesh

“One night, I dreamt I was a butterfly. Now, I do not know whether I was a man dreaming that I was a butterfly or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming that I am a man.” (Chuang Tzu)

A butterfly´s dream

Suddenly, it found itself on a tree trunk, looking at a snake wrapped around one of the upper branches, hanging between the earth and the sky, as if trying to catch bait.

The butterfly wondered:

Does the snake have a tail?

But when it looked at the snake again, it concluded that it had nothing but a tail!

The butterfly laughed at its dialectical thinking and said to itself:

Oh, this useless human thinking!

And again, at the sight of the snake and its leathery skin, with its staring eyes and the tongue that shot out of its mouth threateningly several times a second and was swallowed again in a flash, it felt hatred and fear.

But the snakes had never attacked butterflies, even when those delicate little birds accidentally sat on these reptiles' backs.

So, where did this hatred come from? The butterfly thought gloomily:

Oh God, I've never had such a strange feeling before; I'm not happy.

But after a moment's reflection, he realized that this sentence had also arisen from new and burgeoning feelings within him, which was also strange.

The little creature thought:

Isn't it true that animal behavior is exclusively instinctive and that emotions have no place in this process?

As the beautiful butterfly was hungry, it flew away from the tree's trunk and, in a few seconds, found itself in the middle of the flower meadow, just a few steps away from the old but strong weeping willow.

But just as it was about to land on the lily blossom, which was usually his favorite flower, it had doubts and, with great cunning, compared it to a flower it thought was a gerbera.

The butterfly had never thought about the names of flowers before and didn't even know that the name of these beautiful plants, whose existence is so crucial to the butterflies and their fellows, is the flower.

Where did these thoughts, peculiar to humans, suddenly come from?

Until now, whenever this little creature felt hungry, it would sit on the first flower that attracted him, drink its nectar, and then speak to the flower with its thought waves without thinking about it. Using the same tactic, it thanked the flower again for continuing this sweet relationship.

This “thank” was a kind of Expression of satisfaction that can only be called “thank” in the human world. Otherwise, there would be no words for it in the animal dictionary.

The butterfly remembered that until that day, it had never thought about which flower had more and tastier juice, but now it had to hover in the air and could not decide. That was a problem that worried him.

Oh God, what's wrong with me?

While the butterfly was engrossed in an inner debate about its serious state of mind, it looked at its own wings when it encountered another butterfly and tried to compare them with the wings of the other. At first glance, he recognized four colors: Yellow, purple, red, and green. It thought:

There's more!

This time, it looked more closely and recognized even some others on the sidelines of the primary colors:

Sky blue, raven black, gold, copper, ... and in this comparison, it found itself more beautiful than the other butterfly. Then, without responding to its friend's mental communication, which humans call greeting, it flew away and sat on the trunk of a thicker plant that stood on a higher level.

The other butterfly flew away, not perturbed by this incident. With the same cheerfulness and joy as ever, it instinctively moved away from its proud and selfish friend and began to play and dance in the air.

Meanwhile, the butterfly was suddenly overcome by a disturbing thought that made him sad.

It remembered there was no food for the winter, and it would surely starve.

This thought made its little heart beat faster, and its head spun so much that it briefly stumbled off the tree trunk and fell. Luckily, it regained consciousness quickly and regained its balance by landing on a leaf.

Now, it had to find a solution to the problem:

Ah, what can I do? Is it possible to store the flower's sap?

The delicate and beautiful butterfly thought to itself with a strange despair that was not inherent in the life and relationships of animals and was, therefore, utterly meaningless in this free world:

What is happening to me? Why can't I live happily and carefree like my fellows, or even those summer flowers, that slippery, slimy worm, or that ladybug with its tiny, ridiculous fins, which aren't as beautiful as my wings?

Why don't these thoughts leave me alone so I can fly carefree like a bee among these flowers, smelling their pleasant scent and enjoying their juice with a relaxed imagination?

The poor butterfly couldn't even remember that it was living as it wished before that day.

.............................................................

Farhan suddenly unexpectedly found himself locked in a room, and without hesitation, he opened the first door he saw. This door led to a small courtyard elegantly and carefully landscaped in the old Persian style, with shrubs, flowers, water cisterns, and small miniature bridges.

When Farhan entered this garden, a new feeling came over him, a spontaneous and natural feeling, without even thinking about it. It was as if fresh blood was flowing through his veins.

He sat next to a beautiful collection of bamboo plants grown in a small pond in a charming atmosphere. He attentively observed the sunlight shining through the green reeds. He particularly admired the reflections of the light's meeting with the water, creating a beautiful penumbra.

He looked at this beautiful and breathtaking nature, and the first moment, he was able to communicate instinctively and without the slightest free choice with this wonderful nature, to feel every photon of light, each of which had a special message and task, to love the gentle breeze that blew into this garden from afar and rolled over his face. He was also able to feel the spirit of life in the clarity of the water, and in this way, he could really respect the mighty and tall weeping willows, spontaneously accept and return the love of the garden's inhabitants, and praise the incomparable Almighty with the entire garden.

In the first seconds, Farhan felt like a part of this environment. Strangely enough, he could now fully enjoy the infinite energy he felt in and with this environment without saying a word or adopting a particular posture.

In this incredible situation, Farhan instinctively managed to feel and love the creator of this beautiful, energetic garden.

In the various mystical schools of the world, one must adopt a specific posture to concentrate, and Farhan had been used to this since childhood. Usually, when he wanted to worship, he would find a secluded corner, sit on his knees, place his hands on his thighs, and straighten his back. But the amazing thing was that he didn't need this state or this kind of meditation to find this concentration at that moment. He was pure meditation and the center of praise.

What was important for Farhan was the state of liberation, freedom, lightness, and peace that he had never experienced before.

He could just as quickly have immersed himself in another nature complex as in this Limited nature.

He could have seen and loved the snake instead of trying to escape or kill it. He could have sat down to look at the flowers and sent them waves of love, or he could have had a romantic conversation with the ladybug.

It didn't matter to Farhan where he slept. He could easily sleep under the camellia tree with its large white and pink flowers. When the first drop of dew fell on his cheek from the tree's beautiful blossoms in the morning, he could wake up from a dreamless, deep sleep and experience love and happiness again.

Something else that blossomed in Farhan was his ability to carry out all his behavior and relationships without planning or thought, basically instinctively.

He was able to understand the need and pleasure of a flower when a bee or a butterfly drinks its nectar.

He could feel the meaning and purpose of the acacia leaves' green and realize the mystery of the endless birth and death of the little creatures he loved, like his friend. He could hear the wind howling and accept it as the grandest and most magnificent symphony, understanding its effect on plant growth.

Farhan lived in a different world, without fear, and full of freedom and energy. All he had to do was want to immerse himself in this world.

This world was where you didn't need words to communicate, and when you flew over it, you enjoyed its beauty. It was a place without tension, worry, sorrow, or comparison.

He was himself as he was, not as he physically looked. His little world was infinite, and this infinity was full of energy, love, and praise.

.....................................................

The beautiful but depressed butterfly was trapped in an endless confusion from which there seemed no escape. The plains and gardens became too small for him; he could no longer smell the scent of the flowers, and it was all too much for such a delicate creature as this little bird. It thought:

Is it possible for me to open my eyes and see that all these scenes are part of a nightmare or a silly joke?

With these thoughts, the butterfly grew tired of its flight, which was the only thing that still gave it pleasure. So, it landed on a camellia petal grown in a small garden that was perfectly decorated and laid out in the old Persian style.

This space and its surroundings were familiar to him. A strange feeling had drawn him there to introduce him to something!

From the top of the tree, the butterfly could easily recognize a man lying carefree and relaxed under the camellia tree, falling into a sweet sleep.

The same strange feeling that had brought the little butterfly to this point stirred again, causing it to gently land on the man's chest and stare at him.

At that moment, the butterfly was very surprised and envious of the sleeping man's peace and independence.

At the same time, the butterfly fell gradually into a deep sleep and dreamed that he was watering the trees, weeding the weeds, and mowing the grass in the garden without fully understanding this environment's inner world.

.....................................................

After an hour, the man woke up in a hurry. After thinking for a moment, he moved with agility as if he had remembered something, put on his gardening gloves, watered the trees, weeded the weeds, and mowed the grass in the garden without really understanding the inner world of this environment.

A butterfly with purple, red, yellow, and green wings and some black and gold copper color on the edges sat happily and carefree on the bench under the camellia tree. A moment later, when it saw the man, it spread its wings and flew away happily and playfully. Its flight spread a cheerful and energetic fragrance in the garden.

Our butterfly no longer envied the man, could no longer think, and could follow its instincts again.

Farhan stood up for a moment and took a look at the beautiful butterfly flying. He envied it, and for a few minutes, he did not know who he was: a butterfly or a human.

Source and references:

The research institute "Andishe Online Germany (AOG)" presents

From the book "The Miracle of Guadalupe."

Author: Faramarz Tabash

The completion date of the article is Fall 2019.

The publication date of the German version is April 26, 2024

The following text was translated from German into English by Faramarz Tabesh

Original quote:

“Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon, I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.” (Chuang Tzu)