Fable — Delilah: the cat that lived in the tiny village of Farr

Can 1 small change — Broadened your mind, increase your knowledge and bring more fun and play into your life?

And then so what? There has to be more in life than this … what is it?

Once upon a time there lived a small cat. Delilah was a calico. She loved roaming the rose field. The rose field stretched far and wide on the edge of her tiny village of Farr. Farr had a population of four people and seventeen cats plus Delilah. That was it. No one else and no other animals lived in Farr. Each human lived in his or her own house. Each cat lived in his or her own house. Delilah lived in the yellow house at the end of Only Street. It was the only street in Farr.

Delilah roamed the rose field. It was a beautiful cool autumn morning. The sky was blue. The sun shined bright. The tree branches shined bright with orange, red, yellow and brown leaves. The trees wrapped around the village, along the edges of the rose field. Two large trees stood tall on either side of the rose field. The branches braided together creating a vibrant arch of leaves. The braided archway was the only way in and out of the rose field.

As I said, it was a beautiful autumn sunny morning. Delilah licked the dew off the grass. She walked along the edge of the field, looking at the centre of the field. The edge of the rose field was as far as she ever roamed. She always looked out at the centre of the field where a small pond glittered in the sunlight. Leaves floated in the water. Her yellow house at the end of Only Street was also on the outskirt of the village. It was very convenient and very comfortable for Delilah to live on the outskirt of the village because it was close to the edge of the gate that led to the rose field.

While Delilah roamed along the edge of the rose field, a small red caterpillar crawled out onto a rose bush branch. Delilah stopped in her tracks. She had never seen anything like it before. She had never seen anything other than the four humans and the other seventeen cats in Farr.

The caterpillar crawled out further along the rose bush branch, until it reached the tip of that branch. Delilah watched closely. Her ears stood straight up. Her eyes looked straight ahead, big and wide. The caterpillar crawled along the branch, paying no attention to Delilah. It continued to crawl around the tip of the branch until it tipped over. The caterpillar dangled upside down from the underside of the branch. Delilah rushed towards the caterpillar. She put her nose beneath the caterpillar to stop it from falling to the ground. The caterpillar fell onto the tip of Delilah’s nose. Delilah’s eyes moved towards one another. Cross-eyed, she now saw two caterpillars. The closer the caterpillar crawled up along her nose towards her eyes, the more difficult it became for Delilah to see it. She slowly rubbed her nose up against the rose bush. She rubbed her nose from left to right along the branch, until the caterpillar found its way back onto the branch. Delilah stepped aside when the caterpillar was safely on the branch.

Delilah watched the caterpillar crawl around the rose bush branch. After showing no sign of falling off the branch again Delilah meowed quietly in the hopes of getting the caterpillar’s attention. She meowed a few times. The caterpillar continued doing what a caterpillar does, focusing ahead along the branch. But Delilah had no idea what she was looking at or what a caterpillar usually does. She tried again and again to get the caterpillar to pay attention to her. She walked to the other side of the rose bush. Her nose nudged the branch causing it to shake. The caterpillar stopped crawling and remained still.

Delilah was running out of ideas on how to get the caterpillar to pay attention to her. She had so many questions for this fuzzy, worm-like insect that continued to crawl and go about its business, while paying zero attention to her. Delilah jumped up and down. She ran around the rose bush. Discouraged, she stretched on the grass and gave up her futile attempt at getting any attention from this mysterious creature.

Delilah stretched out on her belly. She turned over onto her back with her legs up in the air. She stared up at the branch. She studied the caterpillar wiggle around the branch.

The morning dew evaporated from the grass. The sun rose a little higher in the sky. Delilah was thinking about what she would have for lunch later on. She rolled onto her side and yawned a few times. Her eyes closed and opened and closed again. Just as she was about to fall asleep, the caterpillar dropped down onto her nose.

Delilah didn’t flinch a muscle. Her eyes focused on the bridge of her nose. Now there were two caterpillars. Then there was one again.

The caterpillar wiggled around, climbing up to Delilah’s forehead. The caterpillar tickled Delilah. It wiggled up to the top of her head, in between her ears. Then it wiggled back down the back of her neck. It continued along her back. Delilah flinched. Her fur twitched back and forth. She looked back at the caterpillar. The caterpillar remained still. Delilah didn’t flinch. She lay on the grass waiting for the caterpillar to do something. Nothing happened. She waited. Still nothing. Her stomach began to rumble. It was getting close to lunchtime.

Delilah laid her head on the grass, watching the caterpillar resting on her fur. There was nothing to do but wait. Wait for the caterpillar to move again. Where would it go? What would it do? What was this creature? Delilah wasn’t certain if any of her questions would receive an answer.

Then, the caterpillar moved again. It crawled up along her tail, right to the tip, where it stopped. Delilah stood up on all fours very slowly. Her tail raised high, she shuffled gently closer to the rose bush. With a light touch, she nudged her tail up against a rose pedal. She tapped the tip of

her tail against the rose. The rose was then lowered, exposing the base of its stem. It was there that the caterpillar disembarked and continued its journey into the rose bush.

Delilah watched with amazement. She watched how the caterpillar crawled. She watched how it ate the leaves. She watched how it did everything. It was time for lunch.

Delilah ran to her yellow house at the end of Only Street. On the stove was a pot of fish stew. She had prepared the fish stew earlier that morning, right before going to the rose field. She scooped a spoon full of fish stew into her bowl. Just as she was about to eat, there was a knock at

the door. Delilah was hungry. The smell of the fish stew drifted up her nose. She lapped up a bit of

the stew before answering the knock at the door.

She looked through the cat door. The orange flap swung back and forth. Her eyes looked at old Mrs. Gaga’s wrinkled stockings around her ankles. She listened to the tapping of her red shoes against the blue stone walkway.

Mrs. Gaga was the oldest of the four humans who lived in the tiny village of Farr. She lived in the puny orange house at the other end of Only Street. Mrs. Gaga knew everything about every cat and every human in Farr. She had a special gift where she could see what was going to happen before it did. What could possibly happen in a tiny village like Farr where there were only four humans and 18 cats? One could not easily predict what every human and every cat would do as they went about their daily routine.

The tapping against the blue stone walkway stopped. Delilah looked through the orange flap. Her eyes locked with Mrs. Gaga’s eyes. There she was bent over like a question mark staring at the orange flap. Delilah stepped back quietly. “Why was Mrs. Gaga at her door during lunchtime?” she wondered. Mrs. Gaga only came out of her house at sunrise and at sunset. She never ventured out of her house at any other time, especially midday when the cats and other humans sat down for lunch.

Delilah looked over at her bowl of fish stew. The hot steam had vanished. The stew was getting cold. She lapped up a few more sips of stew. Mrs. Gaga’s shadow shined through the orange flap. She was still there, waiting. Before Delilah could drop her tongue into the stew for another gulp, Mrs. Gaga knocked louder at the door. Delilah was practically shocked as she swallowed a piece of fish. It wasn’t the time to cough up what she had just eaten with a fur ball to follow. Not if she was about to open the door to Mrs. Gaga.

Delilah recalled when she was just a kitten, playing in Mrs. Gaga’s backyard. Back then, Mrs. Gaga baked all sorts of goodies. What was most memorable was her singing. She sang all the time. She also recited poems all the time too. Then one day, she stopped singing and reciting poetry altogether.

A flower grows only once

Like a human given a name only once

Call out to the birds

Call out to the others

Who hears and who calls back out?

Where does sound go when one lets go?

Where does life go when one lets go?

Can a ballad be all songs?

Can a singer ever be without a song?

Delilah remembered Mrs. Gaga saying this to her. Things like that, whether it made sense or had rhythm. But she remembers her voice being like no other. Mrs. Gaga sang the birds out of the trees. She was Farr’s best singer, she was the world’s best singer for that matter, since Farr was the world.

Back then, Farr was home to more than four humans. “What changed? Where did they all go? Why had Farr changed so much?” wondered Delilah. “Why is Mrs. Gaga at my door at lunchtime?” whispered Delilah.

Delilah waited a moment longer before looking through the orange flap to see if Mrs. Gaga was still there. She sat next to her fish stew. She recalled when she was the kitten of Mrs. Gaga’s neighbour, Mr. Fred.

Mr. Fred was a tall man with shoulder-length black hair. He wore a yellow shirt and yellow pants every day. Not the same shirt or the same pants, different styles of course, and different styles. Mr. Fred liked bright and vibrant colours.

Mr. Fred lived in the big white house. Mrs. Gaga’s puny orange house looked even punier than it was next to his house. Mr. Fred needed a big house for his grand piano. He played the piano day and night. He played piano for Mrs. Gaga. They wrote lyrics and music together. Sometimes, Mrs. Gaga would write the lyrics and the music, and then she would ask Mr. Fred to play it for her. They made a great team. Everyone in the village loved listening to them. The music was heard throughout the village. Then one day, it all went silent. Mr. Fred was gone. Mrs. Gaga stopped singing.

Delilah gobbled down another sip of her fish stew. She stepped closer to the flap.

“Delilah,” said Mrs. Gaga, “it’s Mrs. Gaga.”

Delilah just about choked on her stew. She remained as quiet as a mouse in front of the flap. She had not heard Mrs. Gaga’s voice since she had stopped singing. She spoke in a soft tone. She spoke slowly, as she did way back then.

Mr. Fred was Mrs. Gaga’s best friend. Delilah sat with them on many occasions, eating lunch and listening to their stories. Mr. Fred had come from a faraway land, Zanzi, where he grew up as a boy. Zanzi was a long village. It stretched forever, along the ocean. The villagers of Zanzi were the great storytellers of the world. He grew up listening to many stories about Farr. Farr was the village many humans and cats wanted to see for themselves. Could Farr be just as it had been told in these stories? Could such a village exist? Then, one day, Mr. Fred packed his suitcase and boarded the great Sultan on its maiden voyage to Farr.

Mr. Fred knew deep down in his heart that the stories that had been told to him were true. But what was the point of knowing something and doing nothing about it? Why had the stories of Farr been salvaged for many generations? What knowledge had been imparted to him? What was he to do with this knowledge? The elders of Zanzi would always finish the story with … and then so what?

… and then so what? Each night, Mr. Fred went to bed with … and then so what? He also asked himself … there has to be more in life than this … what was it? Zanzi had a treasure map posted on the community billboard … and then so what?

The treasure map’s starting point marked Zanzi with a big red star … you are here. Dots of various sizes and colour zigzagged from north to south, and from east to west. And somewhere on the map, a big yellow star marked the spot … and then so what? The funny thing was that, if you stared at the map long enough, the big yellow star moved position. One minute it was north east, then it was south, then west, and then and then … changing spot on the treasure map.

The same treasure map was posted everywhere you looked on the Sultan. There was only one map charting the course from Zanzi to Farr. The ship was set on a course for Farr. The ship’s course that was set by the stars was a journey of undefined days and nights. The passengers and the crew knew they would reach Farr. That’s all that mattered to them.

Each passenger had his or her own reasons for boarding the Sultan. Not all were headed for Farr. In fact, it was only Mr. Fred who would be getting off at Farr. The others decided to get off at different ports of call along the way. Each passenger decided for himself or herself where he or she would disembark, knowing full well that the ship wouldn’t return for them in a few days or a very long time, if ever. But their mission was to discover … and then so what? Each passenger had listened to the same stories that had been told to them, but each passenger had heard a different story. Each had to decide what that story meant to him or her. Each passenger decided what he or she would do with this knowledge.

One day, the Sultan halted at the port of call of Engla, where new passengers embarked and others disembarked. Engla was a small island in the middle of the sea. Large and small orange, yellow and white rocks covered the island. Cherry blossom trees and rose bushes grew in between the rocks. People walked around the paths that had been laid out for them by the rocks and the trees. The path meandered here and there, and never did any of them cross or join up. Once you stepped on the path, you were bound to it until you could find a link to get off and continue onto another path. The only way onto another path with success was with ease. The ease of transferring from here to there was the only way. Any shortcuts to jump from here to there, or any attempt at defying the ease of the path would set you back on your original path; essentially repeating it over and over again.

Mr. Fred had learned from the new passengers of Engla that it was only with ease of walking the path towards to the ship that represented the only way they could reach the ship.

That’s if you wanted to reach the ship and embark when the ship arrived. Some were ok with taking the next ship. And for some, this was the next ship coming through Engla.

Mr. Fred had also learned that the passengers who disembarked at Engla would have to walk with ease along their chosen paths with ease, in order to get to wherever it was that they wished to arrive at Engla. The island had many beautiful observation points from which the passengers could view the island and the sea around them. Whatever their destination was on the island, of which there were many, actually there were infinite destinations on the island of Engla, each person disembarking to make this journey of infinity stepped on the Sultan confident that he or she was going somewhere. The destination was just an excuse for the journey.

Mr. Fred talked at length with his new friend Christina from Engla. It was she who said to him … the destination was just an excuse for the journey … that’s why people come to Engla. And so Mr. Fred and Christina shared many stories throughout their sea voyage on the Sultan.

The next port of call was Londo Island, where Christina disembarked the Sultan. She had shared a story with Mr. Fred about Londo. Londo was the biggest island between Zanzi and Farr. It was longer than it was wide. The Blue People were the indigenous inhabitants of Londo. They had lived there since the dawn of time. They came from no other place and they had never left the island. However, they welcomed everyone.

The Blue People were the historians of the islands. The island housed the biggest library of stories and music. A large stained glass of the treasure map … and then so what? encapsulated the wooden archway. The archway was the only way on and off the island.

A blue person greeted every newcomer to the island. Christina described them as the tallest humans she had ever set eyes on, and she had set eyes on many humans from her many journeys around the islands and the rest of the world. Long pink hair draped down to their knees. They all had pink hair. They all had silver eyes. And they all wore the same florescent gold gown. None of them wore any shoes. Their long blue toes with bright yellow toenails poked out from underneath their gown.

… and then so what? was every newcomers responsibility to give back to the community whatever that meant for them. The Blue People tasked the visitors with one task each. No two visitors had the same task. None of the visitors knew each other’s tasks. That was a private journey that was not to be discussed with anyone else other than a blue person. Each visitor could choose to do the task or not. Each visitor could choose to stay on Londo after he or she had completed the task, or embark on the next ship, whenever that ship decided to show up.

The Blue People had come to learn many stories about other humans who lived on or around the island and other parts of the world. They had come to learn that many humans acquired an abundance of knowledge about themselves through various means, through others and the world in general. But what they had come to learn about the other humans was that most of them didn’t think with this knowledge. They had not taken the next step to … and then so what?

The Blue People had acquired this knowledge from the continuous flow of visitors over the centuries. Some of the visitors had stayed and made Londo their permanent home, some of them left and never returned, while others returned frequently but didn’t stay permanently.

Mr. Fred was intrigued and curious about Londo and the Blue People that he disembarked with Christina. Besides, the destination was just an excuse for the journey. Why not? It was all part of the journey. He wanted to meet the Blue People. He wanted to learn more about the stories that he had heard while growing up. He wanted more experiences in his life. He wanted to pack as much as he could into his life. He made choices that he knew would provide answers for him … and then so what? He wanted his life to matter. He knew that by allowing himself to have as many experiences as possible was journey … and allowing it to come into full action because he was Being just what he was seeking and asking for. He was conscious that if he played his part into this world, he wouldn’t go unnoticed, even if he was being noticed by only one person, or one cat.

Mr. Fred’s Blue host showed him to his dwelling. The mud hut made of orange clay was tall enough for two Blue People, should one be standing on the other’s shoulders. It was also just as wide. The wooden bed was also just as long, but not as wide.

Before the Blue host turned to walk out the door, she looked down at Mr. Fred. “Mr. Fred.” said the Blue host. “My name is Rokh.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” said Mr. Fred.

“Mr. Fred, this will be your task.” said Rokh. She turned away from him and walked towards the door.

Mr. Fred walked behind her. He wanted to hear what she had to say before she left the hut. Rokh stopped abruptly before reaching the door. Mr. Fred bumped into her. She looked back at him. She grinned from ear to ear.

“Mr. Fred, your task is to learn the tasks of your neighbour to the left and to the your right, and to come to understand … and then so what? for each of them, and how this teaches you … and then so what? for yourself.” Rokh turned and walked out of the hut.

Mr. Fred was perplexed because he had been told that no one knew anyone else’s task. The tasks were not to be discussed with anyone else other than a Blue person. Each visitor could choose to carry out the task or not.

Delilah was in the same perplexing situation as Mr. Fred back then. She could choose to open the door for Mrs. Gaga at the most unusual time of the day, during lunch time especially, or she could choose to ignore Mrs. Gaga and keep the status quo, and not disrupt her routine.

Delilah wondered if change was an option right now. Could change lead to greater and better things? Could change, a different routine, possibly be what was needed to finish her fish stew, as it was getting colder and colder in the bowl next to her? Could change be the answer to getting the caterpillar to acknowledge her, to pay her some kind of attention?

Mr. Fred was keen to experience this task. He imagined every possible way to experience the journey. He experienced all of the opportunities that were aligned with his highest self.

After many sunrises and sunsets, Rokh returned to Mr. Fred’s hut. She stepped close to him. She looked down at him. Her big silver eyes stared into his dark brown eyes. “Have you completed your task?” asked Rokh.

Mr. Fred looked up at Rokh with a big smile. “I shall never arrive at my destination because my journey is a never ending one. My journey never ends because I will always strive to reach my highest self. I will always strive to reach my highest self because there is no end to me.”

“ …and then so what?” asked Rokh.

“ …and then so what … I want to be a human of worth and substance.” replied Mr. Fred. “My soul is my most precious possession, and I must protect it.”

“Rokh” said Mr. Fred “ …and then be still. Being still is …

Stillness

Stillness is a time to reflect

To enjoy

To embrace

and

See what lies ahead.

A path to follow

A time to see

A moment of joy.

— — — — — -

What comes

and

What follows

God only knows.

Be still my friend

Love brings hope

Your faith unfolds.

I see you there

In the light

And

Remember — what we think we know

Is always what we’re going to discover.

I know you’re there

Standing near

You’re in my body and my soul

At last we meet.

Along this walk

Where two souls meet

Take my hand

When time agrees.

*

A journey ends

A new one unfolds

Let life explain

What must be known.

Your time is near

Your writing is clear

Allow this path

To fill your dreams.

I once saw you

In my dream

and

What I was meant to know

Was for tomorrow.

You dance with your shadow

You laugh with your soul

You run with hope

and

You write with love.

What else can be said

When love is still

other than

Knowing that stillness

Is where the moment begins..” recited Mr. Fred.

Delilah recalled how Mrs. Gaga described the first time she met Mr. Fred.

A Conversation

When a conversation begins, a window of opportunity for a friendship begins to appear, a friendship started, longed for — the beginning of a new journey

A path of discovery

A place to be

A moment to embrace

A journey begins with a new shining star

A direction you want to follow

A place to see

The explorer finds a map

Picks a spot

Compass pointed

The walk begins

On this bath she meets a guide

Not what she expected -

She’s pleased with him

She likes this guide

A teacher, a student, a friend — one entity

One soul, one memory — one place

A conversation begins

And words are shared

Life is shared

Delilah sat quietly and still at the door flap. She watched Mrs. Gaga’s shadow move back and forth from the other side. Her shoes tapped quietly. Delilah remembered Mrs. Gaga being a very patient woman. Mrs. Gaga had once explained to Delilah how being still helped her reach her best singing voice. But Delilah’s memories of Mrs. Gaga singing were not of her standing still. Mrs. Gaga danced all the time while she sang, except for when she sang a ballad.

Mrs. Gaga explained to Delilah that each song requires a certain amount of energy, that there wasn’t one song that resembled the other in terms of the energy that was required to sing it. “Songs and music are meant to be felt.” Mrs. Gaga would say. “Songs and music are to be experienced, not just heard with our ears, but absorbed through our senses. Just like life. Life is to be absorbed, experienced and felt through all of our senses, especially the heart. You can only feel life to know life. You can only live when you allow yourself to feel. You can allow yourself to feel the kaleidoscope of the feelings the universe has made available to you … to know that … and then being still … feeling is required.”

Delilah stepped back from the flap. She sipped those last few sips of fish stew from her bowl. Through the crack in the flap, she watched Mrs. Gaga, walking away from the door. Mrs. Gaga stopped walking half way down the walkway. To her right was a large cherry blossom tree that shaded the bench in Delilah’s front yard. Mrs. Gaga took a seat. Delilah watched intensely at what she would do next. “How long would she wait there? She is a very patient woman,” wondered Delilah.

Delilah watched Mrs. Gaga look through her purple purse. Mrs. Gaga never left the house without her purple purse. No matter how long she would be away from home or how far. Mrs. Gaga removed a sandwich and an apple from her purse.

“She will be on that bench for a very long time,” thought Delilah. Mrs. Gaga was a very slow eater. “How will I get back to the rose field to see the caterpillar while Mrs. Gaga is waiting for me?”

Delilah sat next to the flap. “I’ll wait as well. Mr. Fred’s story about stillness is useful right now,” thought Delilah.

Mr. Fred left Londo the day after he spoke with Rohk. It just so happened that a ship was passing through. He boarded the Bulsa. The ship sailed that early morning for Farr. It was a large sailboat with bright yellow, orange and white sails.

Mr. Fred arrived in Farr the morning of the village annual music and writer’s celebration. All the villagers and all the cats attended the festival. The festival took place in every corner of the village along Only Street, and in the rose field. Everyone sang and danced, recited stories and wrote together. An array of colourful food stretched from house to house.

The festival was just as Mr. Fred had heard in the stories. It was actually better being there to experience it firsthand. The village vibrated with all sorts of sounds, colours and aromas. It was magical.

Then he set eyes on Mrs. Gaga. It was love at first sight. But he would have to wait to meet her. He knew that he was receiving what he had asked for when he learned later that day that he was moving into the house next door to hers’.

Mr. Fred knew that if he were to continue receiving what he had asked for, to find a best friend, to befriend a best friend who would sing to his music, he needed to be still.

Back at Zanzi, Mr. Fred spoke clearly to the universe about what he wanted. He wrote it in his journal. He wrote the music to which ‘this friend’ would sing too. He knew he needed to already be in a place where this dream was already being realized. He knew that he needed to have the music already composed before he met the singer. He knew he needed to be and feel his way to his dream, be and feel his way to receiving.

And then all he needed to do was to be still.

Delilah washed the dishes after lunch. After tidying up, she opened the door. Mrs. Gaga was no longer sitting on the bench under the cherry blossom tree. Ever since Delilah had known Mrs. Gaga, she had never known her to leave before seeing whoever it was that she wanted to see. This was as much out of character for Mrs. Gaga as it was for her to leave the house other than at sunrise and sunset. “Why did she leave? And where could she have gone?” wondered Delilah.

Delilah walked to the bench. A purple envelope was taped to the bench. Delilah’s name was written on the envelope. Delilah jumped up on the bench. She opened the envelope and removed a letter from it. She looked around to see if Mrs. Gaga was anywhere in sight. There was only one street, Only Street, and she did live at the end of Only Street, so she couldn’t have gone too far. “She must have gone back to her house,” thought Delilah.

She opened the letter. The letter read as follows:

Dear Delilah,

I came by your place today at lunchtime. I knocked a few times and waited, but you were not home. I figured that you were still out at the rose field, so I decided to wait awhile on the bench in case you returned. I ate my lunch under your beautiful cherry blossom tree. Today, I decided that I would do something different and have lunch with you. I know you never change your routine and you always have lunch at the same time, at your house every day. Ever since Mr. Fred’s death, I have been eating lunch on my own. Today, I decided that it would be a different day. I ate my sandwich and my apple alone. I didn’t see you coming up Only Street, so I decided to go back to my house for my tea.

You must have decided that today would be a different day for you as well since you didn’t answer when I knocked.

Your loving friend,

Mrs. Gaga

Delilah crawled back to her house. She read Mrs. Gaga’s letter several times. Delilah prepared a pot of tea and put Mrs. Gaga’s favourite pie in the oven. She always liked her apple pie a little warm. She called Mrs. Gaga to invite her over for tea and pie. Mrs. Gaga was delighted.

That afternoon, Delilah and Mrs. Gaga spent their time talking about all sorts of things. Mrs. Gaga shared her love story of her and Mr. Fred. It was the greatest and saddest story Delilah had ever heard. But Mrs. Gaga didn’t want her or anyone to feel sad for her. Mrs. Gaga shared her fears of trusting someone else. She had become best friends with Mr. Fred who had asked for her hand in marriage not long after he moved into the house next door. Mr. Fred proposed to Mrs. Gaga the first time she sang to his music. Mrs. Gaga refused Mr. Fred’s proposals for many reasons … there are not enough pages in any story to list all of the reasons why she refused Mr. Fred’s proposal. By the time they drank a few pots of tea and finished the entire pie, Delilah wiped her tears when Mrs. Gaga told her about the moment when she had decided to Be all that she knew she wanted to Be; the day she accepted Mr. Fred’s proposal. That night, Mr. Fred died in his sleep.

Delilah walked Mrs. Gaga back to her house later that afternoon. The sun shined down on Only Street. The leaves swirled around the sidewalk. The tree branches creaked with the breeze. It was a perfect autumn day in Farr, the only village where cherry blossom trees bloomed all year round. Delilah had the biggest and most beautiful tree in her front yard for everyone to enjoy.

On their walk back to Mrs. Gaga’s house, Delilah asked her if they could have lunch together or do something different for lunch every day. Mrs. Gaga was delighted with that idea. Mrs. Gaga suggested that they invite other people from the village to join them as well. Delilah was delighted as well. This was a wonderful change for both of them.

When they reached Mrs. Gaga’s house, Mrs. Gaga invited Delilah in. Delilah had not been in the house ever since Mr. Fred had died, and that was a long time ago, it seemed.

“I’d like to show you something.” said Mrs. Fred. “Please do come in.”

Delilah gladly accepted the invitation. In the main living room, on the wall, over the grand piano, hung a portrait of Mr. Fred. Delilah looked up at that portrait. She looked down at the grand piano.

“How did they managed to get this huge piano into Mrs. Gaga’s puny house?” wondered Delilah. But somehow, the piano fit perfectly into this room. It was as though it had always been there. It was as though this room had been built especially for this piano.

“Mr. Fred was a very handsome man,” said Delilah.

“Yes.” agreed Mrs. Gaga. “He was the love of my life, and he told me every day I was the love of his life.” She turned and looked up at the portrait. “But this is not why I invited you to come in. There is something else I would like to show you. Please come this way.”

Delilah followed Mrs. Gaga to another room. “How many rooms could there be in this puny house?” wondered Delilah. “From the outside, this house looks so tiny. It couldn’t have more than two bedrooms.” she thought to herself. Delilah continued to follow Mrs. Gaga. They arrived at a swirling staircase.

The staircase seemed to reach up to the sky. Delilah was bewildered at the twists and turns of this puny house. She wanted to know what would come next. She had heard of the proverb “Curiosity killed the cat” … well … Delilah was curious enough to go all the way. She knew though that this proverb was used to warn of the dangers of unnecessary investigations or experimentation, and that it wasn’t fitting for this occasion.

Delilah followed Mrs. Gaga up the stairs. Mrs. Gaga’s red shoes drummed against the wooden steps. The drumming echoed up to the bright yellow ceiling. After a few minutes, they reached the top of the stairs. A brown wooden door stretched across the ceiling. An orange stone knob poked out from the centre of the door. Mrs. Gaga grasped the knob, turned it clockwise and push on the door.

She then stepped up on the last step and up into the room above. Delilah followed with even greater curiosity. On the top step, Delilah poked her head into the room. She looked into the bright turquoise room that was filled with all sorts of ancient artefacts. A large table stretched from wall to wall. Books of stamps covered the table. The stamps were from every village around the world. Also, various sculptures and ornaments that had been worn by various humans and cats hung on the wall and draped on beautifully-crafted stone and wooden chairs.

Next to the far wall below the crown-shaped window was a treasure chest. The chest was carved out of wood. Two golden hooks twisted in and out of a golden latch.

“Come here Delilah.” said Mrs. Gaga, as she opened the chest.

Delilah’s eyes practically jumped out of her head when she saw what was in that chest. She looked up at Mrs. Gaga.

“Everything that is in this room and in this chest once belonged to Mr. Fred. Before he arrived to Farr, Mr. Fred had been on many adventures. He collected one or many things from every village he visited. The music sheets in this chest are songs he wrote for every single person he met. No two songs were the same. Mr. Fred was an amazing man. He opened his heart to everyone he met. He opened his heart to every opportunity that was placed before him. His passion was music. His love was for the songs. He became everything he wanted in his life. He knew he needed to be the musician he wanted to be before learning how to play the piano. He knew that he needed to be a singer before he could sing a song. He tinkered with everything. He listened to every sound he heard in every village. He believed that everything around him was music. He believed that in order to be a musician, he had to Be music, and that started with his highest self. Mr. Fred never hesitated on that point. Mr. Fred asked for what he wanted, he felt what he wanted, he did what he had to do to receive it.

“Mr. Fred never showed any of this to anyone when he lived in the big white house next door.” said Delilah. “Why did Mr. Fred not share this with me or anyone else in the village?”

“Mr. Fred did share his music and all of this with others,” said Mrs. Gaga. “He lived in the biggest house in the village. All of this was everywhere in the house. The music sheets covered the grand piano. He hummed his songs all day. He played these songs on the piano often. Some people and some cats saw all of this and heard every song. Some people and some cats saw only the big house and the stuff in it.”

“I thought I knew Mr. Fred pretty well before he died.” said Delilah. “I love music and always wanted to learn how to play the piano. I had hoped that one day Mr. Fred could teach me how to play the piano, but …”

Mrs. Gaga removed a few sheets of music from the chest. She pointed at the title on the music sheet. Delilah looked at the music sheet. Tears rolled down her face.

“Delilah, the title is Delilah,” said Delilah.

“Yes.” said Mrs. Gaga. “Mr. Fred knew you wanted to learn to play the piano and write music. Every day he waited for you to come to the house. Every day he prepared the music sheets, a pot of tea, and fish stew, just for you.”

Delilah stared at the crown-shaped window. Her tail flopped to the ground. Mixed emotions swirled around in her stomach. Mrs. Gaga patted her on the head. “Now, now Delilah, there is no point in tormenting yourself with regret. Today is a new day. It’s a new day for both of us.” She pulled out an orange journal tucked away beneath the music sheets.

“This is for you.” said Mrs. Gaga.

Delilah took the journal. She opened it to the first page. She read the inscription:

Dear Delilah,

Please accept this gift as a demonstration of love and appreciation for the friendship you have shown me throughout all these years. You greeted me with open arms when I first arrived to Farr. I enjoyed all of our conversations, especially the ones about your long walks along the rose field. I am certain that one day you will discover all there is to discover in the rose field.

I hope you will enjoy the piano. Mrs. Gaga will care for it until you are ready to bring it into your home. These music sheets and this journal will provide you with everything you need to begin your music lessons. Mrs. Gaga has agreed to be your teacher for as long as you need.

Your loving friend,

Mr. Fred

The next day, Delilah moved the piano into her yellow house. She stared at it all day. It filled the corner of her living room where she searched a long time as to how to best use this space.

The music sheets covered the top of the piano. She looked at every single one of them. She studied the one entitled Delilah. Mr. Fred had composed these lyrics and this music just for her. Her heart was all a fluster from this wonderful gift. She had never received such a beautiful gift, other than the grand piano, the music sheet and the journal. Also, she was forever appreciative that Mrs. Gaga would be her music teacher for however long she desired.

The passage of time for Delilah from the day she met Mrs. Gaga and Mr. Fred until now seemed long, as well as short and mysterious. She knew that time waits for no one, no matter what. You either do it or you don’t. You either decide or you don’t. You either act or you don’t. It goes on … either you make something happen or you don’t. That choice is always and only ever left up to us, no one else, ever!

After the first few days of staring at the piano, the music notes and the journal, Delilah scheduled her first music lesson with Mrs. Gaga. Mrs. Gaga would come over to teach Delilah every morning before she left for the rose field.

The music lessons had become a routine, which played a big part in Delilah’s life. What she learned every morning from Mrs. Gaga wasn’t only for the yellow house to enjoy. After ever lesson, Delilah took what she had learned to the rose field. This time, she bought a tiny keyboard she could throw over her shoulder to take along to the field with her. She loved to perform for the trees, the flowers and the caterpillar.

Delilah learned many things while learning how to play the piano, write lyrics and compose music. She learned to listen in a way she had never listened before. Everything around her was something worth listening too. The rustling of the leaves, the sound of flowing water, the sound of the can opener, the sound of washing dishes, the sound of vehicles on Only Street, the sound of people crying, the sound of the garbage truck collecting the trash, and the sound of her own voice. The sound of her own inner voice!

Delilah’s inner voice became stronger and louder because she remained still long enough to listen to each of the music note. Each music note was different from the first time she had heard it to the second, third, fourth and so on. It was different because she was listening in a different way.

She couldn’t hear the same thing the same way twice because each moment of her days she was experiencing something new. It was something new because it was a different moment in time. Time waits for no one … she knew this. So if it doesn’t stand still … then she knew that she must decide to be in the moment, to be present. Delilah knew that she couldn’t run with time, she couldn’t run with the speed of light.

Delilah had become acutely aware that attempting to chase what she wanted was a futile attempt because she knew she would never reach it. If she took a step forward, it took a step forward. If she stood still, and ask for something, then that ‘thing’ she asked for would come to her.

Delilah had explored her inner self to begin at the start line. She didn’t want Mr. Fred’s gift to her to go to waste. “How was it that she received such a gift? Was it luck?” wondered Delilah.

The days she stared at the piano she couldn’t help but wonder why this had happened. She really had not done much to receive what she had asked for. She never spoke with Mr. Fred that she wanted to learn how to play the piano, write songs and compose music. “How did he know?” she asked herself over and over again. It wasn’t until one morning during one of her music lessons with Mrs. Gaga that she received the answer to this question.

Mrs. Gaga shared a story with Delilah that morning. In her story, she brought Delilah back to the first day the three of them sat together in Mr. Fred’s kitchen. He had invited them for tea and pie. Delilah was just a kitten. It was Delilah’s first time going into another human’s house. There were only four humans living in Farr back then. Now there were only three, since Mr. Fred had died. But before that, there had been many other humans.

Before Mr. Fred arrived in Farr, there were a lot more human in Farr who moved away to other villages. They moved away because they learned of ships coming through. Farr had also been a port of call for all sorts of seafaring vessels. But, for some reason that was never known, the sea vessels stopped coming to Farr a very long time ago. There was no reason ever given, no explanation. It just was.

The villagers of Farr accepted this fact and went on with their daily lives. It was neither here nor there to the villagers if a sea vessel ever docked again in Farr. Farr offered plenty of adventures, fun, excitement and mysteries to keep the villagers happy for many generations to come. There were just as many reasons to stay, as there were to go elsewhere.

One day, Farr received a telegram about the Sultan. This news brought great joy to the villagers. The village prepared for its arrival. Some decided they would stay in Farr, while others decided to board the Sultan and go on another adventure. “There were just as many reasons to stay as there were to go elsewhere,” said those who boarded the Sultan. “There are just as many reasons to stay, as there are to go elsewhere,” said those who stayed in Farr.

When the Sultan docked in Farr, passengers didn’t disembark. Only new passengers embarked. It was for this very same reason that some decided to stay while others decided to go on new adventures.

After several seasons, Farr received another telegram about the arrival of the Bulsa. Mr. Farr was on this sailboat with its big orange, yellow and white sails. Everyone was excited about this majestic ship.

When the Bulsa docked in Farr, only one passenger disembarked, and many others boarded the Bulsa. Mr. Fred disembarked the Bulsa. Mr. Fred arrived in Farr the morning of the village’s annual music and writer’s celebration. The Bulsa remained docked until the end of the festival, after which new passengers boarded the Bulsa.

At the end of that day, Farr’s population was now of 4 humans and 18 cats. Everyone had his or her very own reasons for staying and for going. It was all the same.

When Mr. Fred set eyes on Mrs. Gaga, he also saw Delilah. Delilah walked close to Mrs. Gaga.

The day after he moved into his big white house, Mr. Fred invited Mrs. Gaga and Delilah over for tea. It was during this first visit that Delilah had shared with Mrs. Gaga and Mr. Fred a dream she had had the night before.

Delilah had been so excited to be at the festival. It was her first Farr festival. That night she dreamt that she was singing and playing the piano at the Farr festival and then travelled the world, performing for different and larger audiences than Farr. Her face glowed and she smiled from ear to ear as she described every detail of her dream. She described the music she played, the songs she sang and the sound of her voice she didn’t know could ever come out of her little body. She described this dream as though she had actually lived every moment the night before. She described this dream as though she had been performing for real in front of an audience. Her entire being glowed; she shined bright inside and out.

But after telling her dream to Mrs. Gaga and Mr. Fred, Delilah shrugged it off as only a dream, a dream that could never come true because she didn’t know how to play the piano, write songs or sing.

Delilah listened intently as Mrs. Gaga reminded her of that day and that dream. “Delilah, our dreams illuminate a path for us,” said Mrs. Gaga. “Dreams are our visions, a portal to our highest self, the way forward.”

“How do we know this for certain?” asked Delilah.

“You want certainty?” replied Mrs. Gaga.

“I want to know what it is that I can do for real and what I cannot do for real. How could I have known that my dream was telling me something important? How could I have known that I was being shown my future?” asked Delilah.

“What do you consider real?” asked Mrs. Gaga.

Delilah sensed this discussion would grow into more questions than answers. Instead of asking more questions, she talked with Mrs. Gaga about what she had been feeling, sensing, and experiencing about music and singing before she ever came out and said that she wanted to learn how to play the piano and write songs. She shared this with Mrs. Gaga all the times, and she thought that she had heard a little voice in her about this and that, answers to questions, and guidance on what and what not to do.

“I don’t always listen, even after I ask a question.” said Delilah. “I probably could have arrived here, received what I asked for sooner than later, if only I had listened.”

Mrs. Gaga smiled at Delilah. “Shall we resume our lesson?”

Delilah looked up at the music sheet, placed her paws on the piano keys and resumed her solo performance. In a most angelic voice, she sang ‘Delilah’ in its entirety for the very first time. Her performance was flawless.

Delilah continued to play her little travel piano in the rose field. She remained on the edge of the rose field, never walking any further than that, never approaching the brilliant pond at the centre of the field. The caterpillar also never paid her much attention in spite of how well Delilah sang and played the piano for him.

Then, one day, Delilah went to the field without her travelling piano. Instead, she decided to just bring herself. She wanted so badly to speak with the caterpillar. She wanted to learn everything there was about caterpillars.

That morning after her piano lessons, Delilah told Mrs. Gaga that she wouldn’t be returning for lunch. Today, she would have lunch with the caterpillar in the rose field. Mrs. Gaga was delighted to hear that Delilah was trying something new again. Every day since their tea and pie visit, Mrs. Gaga and Delilah learned one new thing and did something different every day, no matter how big or small. This was a game they enjoyed playing every day. This game had broadened their mind, increased their knowledge and brought more fun and play into their lives. They couldn’t have imagined that all the changes they had come to experience would come from such a small change.

Mrs. Gaga packed a lunch for both Delilah and the caterpillar. Delilah thanked Mrs. Gaga and off she went to the rose field with her lunch bag.

On her way to the rose field, Delilah saw Mr. Bohe who lived in the green house and Mrs. Rhap who lived in the silver house. Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap were the caretakers of the rose field. They looked after the gates, and walked the field every day in case any animal or plant was in need of something. But overall, they were just there to be available should the rose field require their help with anything.

The other 17 cats did what they did every day as well. Some liked to spend their day in the rose field as well. It just happened that, on that day, there was a fish stew contest at one of the cats’ house. Delilah opted not to attend, but instead she went to the rose field. She was happy with her decision because she seldom ever saw Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap since they were always out and about doing something here and there. Today was her lucky day. She had the opportunity to walk with them to the rose field.

“Good morning Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap.” said Delilah. “How are you doing today? It’s a lovely morning.”

“Good morning Delilah.” said Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap.

“Can I join you on the way to the rose field?” asked Delilah.

“Of course you can.” replied Mr. Bohe.

Delilah walked in between Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap, with her tail way up high. She was very happy to be spending time with both of them. It was a great occasion for Delilah because there was so much she had heard about them, but in reality, she knew very little about them. This would be the first day she would start to get to know Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap a little more.

As they walked to the rose field, Delilah asked Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap many questions. She asked them about the rose field, about the houses they lived in and about the villagers that once lived in Farr before she was born.

Then she asked them about the caterpillar in the rose field. She asked them about what a caterpillar was. Why did the caterpillar spend most of its time on its own? Why didn’t it pay her any attention?

But just like talking with Mrs. Gaga, Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap replied to her questions with other questions. The questions seemed to all be the same question in the end because Delilah realized that all of her questions seemed to be pretty much the same as well. She wanted to know about caterpillars by asking Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap instead of asking a caterpillar.

Delilah realized that Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap hinted that going directly to the source would probably be more helpful. Delilah knew that meant she would have to be patient, observe her subject, and learn. This required nothing more to do other than to determine what she already knew, to define what she was going to learn … and then what you know, and then so what … what would she do with this information, this new knowledge, and be still with this new discovery, let this new-found knowledge be received and see what she really learned, and then be … be the caterpillar to understand and get to know what it is to be a caterpillar … how else could you really know? And then, ACT … act as though you want to know and learn something different. Be interested in something else. Be interested in something that brings you closer to your highest self. Be interested! Being interested makes you interesting.

Delilah had come to understand all of this. She had come to understand that you could say whatever you wanted, but if you did nothing about it, you had done nothing. Words are just words … but action must follow to give words meaning.

At the rose field arches, Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap parted ways and wished Delilah a great day.

Delilah crossed the rose field arches a different cat that morning. She looked out at the rose field with different eyes. She saw a completely different field. With her lunch bag, she walked to her usual rose bush in search of caterpillar. Caterpillar was nowhere to be found. Delilah sat in the grass, quietly observing her new surroundings.

Birds flew above and all around her. They perched in the rose bush next to her, singing their songs. Other birds flew over the pond in the centre of the rose field. Delilah had only walked the periphery of the rose field. She never walked any further. She thought she didn’t know why she resisted the call of the pond, the flowers further afield, and the insects singing out to her.

Delilah remembered the first time she had visited the edge of the rose field. She was just a kitten at the time. She was a very tiny kitten; smaller than the average size for a kitten. Everything around her then seemed very big. She felt as though she was living amongst giants. Giant people, giant cats, giant trees, a giant house, giant everything.

Now an adult cat, Delilah was still smaller than the average adult cat in size. But this time, she didn’t feel like she was living amongst giants. She had come to understand that this was her perception and that the people, other cats, trees, and everything else, were not giants. She was just different than them. They were different from her. There was no more to it other than that.

Delilah wondered why caterpillar had not come out today. She looked everywhere around the rose bush for caterpillar. After looking for while, Delilah stretched out on her stomach to explore what she could find in the grass.

The grass had been warmed by the sun. It felt good to lie there with her tummy against the warm grass. She hadn’t ever really noticed the warm grass before. Amongst the blades of grass, she observed many different insects. They were of all shapes and sizes. She had never noticed them before either. She felt what Mrs. Gaga calls … being in the flow.

Delilah listened to many of the conversations between Mr. Fred and Mrs. Gaga about … and then flow”. She didn’t understand what this meant until just now. Delilah was exploring the limits of her imagination. She was allowing herself to BE, to BE in the moment, to BE present, to just BE. She was listening to what her highest self was saying to her.

Delilah embraced this present moment that gave her the opportunity to just listen, to act on what she felt, and to let herself flow from one momentous occasion to the next. Being in the flow allowed her mind, body and soul to drift from one experience to the next.

The next thing she knew, she was looking at her reflection. Delilah had explored her way to the pond that was located in the centre of the rose field. She jumped up onto her feet. She looked around. She was far from the rose field arches. It was no longer morning. It was midday. The sun was high in the sky.

Delilah looked back down into the water. She stared at her reflection staring back at her. She barely recognized herself. She looked closer. “How is that?” said Delilah. She looked closer. Her reflection did the same thing. She pulled back. Her reflection mimicked her every move. She played around with her reflection for a while. She ran around the very large pond sneaking peaks at herself here and there.

Delilah ran faster and faster around the pond. She ran back to the rose field arch and then back to the pond. She ran to the other side of the rose field and back to the pond. She ran everywhere and then back to the pond.

“The rose field is not as big as I thought.” said Delilah.

“Good afternoon Delilah.” said Mr. Bohe. Mr. Bohe carried his shovel and walked towards Delilah. “I see you have found one of the many treasures of the rose field.”

“Treasure?” asked Delilah.

“Yes, there are many treasures to be discovered in the rose field,” said Mrs. Rhap. She followed Mr. Bohe.

“The rose field pond is one of Farr’s greatest mysteries.” said Mrs. Rhap.

“Why is that?” said Delilah.

“Because whether it rains or not, the pond is always filled with water. It has never gone dry in hundreds and hundreds of years.” said Mrs. Rhap. “That’s just the way it is.”

“I never noticed that the pond was always filled with water when it didn’t rain for a very long time.” said Delilah. “I always noticed its glitter in the middle of the field.”

“Did you ask caterpillar about caterpillar?” said Mr. Bohe.

“No. I cannot find caterpillar,” said Delilah. “I searched everywhere for him.”

“Well … there is another mystery and treasure for you to discover.” said Mr. Bohe. “What will you do to find caterpillar and learn more about him?”

“I will keep exploring the rose field every day until I find caterpillar.” added Delilah. “I also want to learn how the pond keeps its water all the time. There are many things I want to know now about this rose field. I didn’t know there would so much to explore. I love hearing the sounds of the insects, the birds, the wind and everything else around me. My imagination is taking control of my thoughts. It’s creating music as I listen to every sound. I can see the music notes in my mind. I will write down everything I am hearing and seeing when I get back home later today. I’m composing as I flow through this rose field. The music is flowing right through me. I can’t stop it. It’s amazing!”

“We are looking forward to your first public concert at the next Farr festival.” said Mrs. Rhap.

“Me too.” said Delilah. “It’s very exciting to feel and live the creation of a dream, to see it come alive.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day!” said Mrs. Rhap. “We will continue with our work.”

“Thank you, and you.” said Delilah. Delilah watched Mr. Bohe and Mrs. Rhap walk away into the bush, until they were out of sight. She had never noticed that Mrs. Rhap walked with a skip in her step and that Mr. Bohe danced when he walked.

Delilah returned to the rose field every day in search of caterpillar. Each day she brought lunch for caterpillar in the hopes that she would find it.

One day, Delilah saw an orange caterpillar. The orange caterpillar had the same body shape and behaved just like the red one, so she figured that it was a caterpillar as well. That day, she learned that there were different types of caterpillars.

Delilah watched the orange caterpillar all day. Later that day, she witnessed something she had never seen before. Months had passed since she first saw the red caterpillar. She had never seen anything like this since she first saw the red one.

The orange caterpillar stopped eating. Delilah watched the orange caterpillar hang upside down from a twig and spin itself into a silky cocoon. Delilah waited. She waited some more. Nothing else happened.

“That’s where the red caterpillar must be.” thought Delilah.

Delilah ran around the rose bush where she had first seen the red caterpillar. She searched and searched for a cocoon just like the orange caterpillar’s. Then, at the far end of the branch, tucked away in the thick of the bush, Delilah found her treasure.

Delilah gently parted the bush’s leaves and branches. She got up close to the cocoon. There it was. There was the friend that she had been searching for all this time. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but she was willing to wait.

The sun was setting over Farr. It would be dark soon, and Delilah knew she needed to get back to her house. She had brought no provisions to spend the night in the rose field.

Delilah wanted to know everything there was to know about caterpillar. She ran home as fast as she could. She prepared a basket of food to last her for days. She packed her bedding and anything else she needed to spend the next few days and nights in the rose field with her friend, the red caterpillar.

Before the sun had completely set on Farr, Delilah was back in the rose field under the rose bush, next to the red caterpillar’s cocoon. That first night, she watched and waited, and tried to stay awake all night. She dosed off, on and off.

The next morning, she ran to the orange caterpillar’s cocoon. Nothing had changed with the orange caterpillar. It was still in its cocoon. Delilah went back and forth between the orange caterpillar’s cocoon to the red caterpillar’s cocoon. Everything remained the same.

One day, Delilah woke up earlier. The red caterpillar was still in its cocoon. She ran to the orange caterpillar. Something was different. She watched patiently. The orange caterpillar’s cocoon was moving.

The cocoon vibrated faster and faster. Then suddenly popped out a wing, then another wing. And then … there was a whole new being looking back at Delilah. The orange butterfly spread its wings under the warm morning sun.

Delilah ran back to the red caterpillar. Its cocoon had remained still. Delilah kept her eyes on the cocoon all day and all night. She waited like she had never waited for any else in her life.

The next morning, the sun shined bright onto the rose bush. Delilah settled comfortably beneath the red cocoon. Then, suddenly, the red cocoon began to vibrate just as the orange cocoon had done. Right before her eyes, a red butterfly dangled from the twig. Delilah was speechless.

During this momentous occasion, Delilah let go of her expectations to want the red caterpillar to pay her some kind of attention. She had forgotten all about why the caterpillar wasn’t paying any attention to her. Then she realized that the caterpillar had fallen twice on her. Even though it didn’t speak as she does, the caterpillar was doing everything it could to get Delilah to notice it. But Delilah interpreted that experience differently.

Observing the transformation from a caterpillar to a cocoon was like music to Delilah’s eyes and all of her other senses. Within moments, she composed music to this process. She composed lyrics for the song she would sing at the festival. It was all so easy. It was all done with ease. It flowed naturally through her. It held no set expectations. She allowed the magic to unfold before her very eyes. She let go of what she thought could happen. There were no certainties about the outcome. She had set her intentions on discovering the mysteries and the treasures of the rose field, and she did that very well.

She had witnessed the caterpillars move, wobble, crawl, and creep on the roses, turning their expressive filaments and twisting their torso like trapeze artists she had once seen in a book, up to the magical moment when the caterpillar became a butterfly.

THE BEGINNING