Most of Us Are One Slap Away From Complete Metamorphosis

“In life, we all need to be slapped in our face with harsh truths a few times.”

I am not talking about truths of physics, facts about material objects, or some secret about your crush’s relationship status. We are often too good at gossiping about “external truths” already. Rarely do we look deep enough into ourselves.

The harsh truth I am referring to is a kind of inconvenient truth that unveils your flawed inner nature or pattern of mind, something you have hitherto been taking for granted subconsciously. It is thus not just any random insult or criticism, the slap must hit some kind of deep truth that the recipient actually agrees in the back of their mind, albeit they might not be fully conscious just yet and appear defensive initially. Maybe this is kind of like “planting a seed in one’s mind” as some people say?

However, a deep truth that hits the bullseye and is at the same time somewhat upsetting constitutes more than just planting a seed in my opinion — It alludes to the self-renewing catalyst that upset a “stable” equilibrium reaction, eventually triggering the full transfiguration of the primordial chemical soup; It parallels the one-of-a-kind evolutionary agent which sparked the great Cambrian explosion, creating an unprecedented marvel of endless forms; It resembles the one biochemical cue that sets off the molecular symphony of metamorphosis, re-inventing a newfound grandiose from a bland, measly larva. Subtle at first but paradigm-shattering in time passing.

In my theory, if a chemical soup can react in completely new ways and new directions, so can the soup of all our knowings, memories and ideas brewing in our cranium pot — abstract pieces of information mix, bond, and break apart to create new insights and understandings, perhaps even more liberally than their material counterparts.

However, an existing “local” equilibrium doesn’t shatter itself from within that often — an external supply of energy or catalyst is needed i.e., a slap. I earnestly believe that “slap” is the correct metaphor, not a small sting or itch on the skin (nor an uppercut K.O.). Human is a funny creature, they get de-sensitized easily if the truth doesn’t strike head-on with some decent force, like when the flood doesn’t pounce on their doorstep, no one would ever care.

To further illustrate what this is all about, I am reminded of a real story my dear friend Gina once told me (hereafter, Gina is referred to as the first-person “I” and the conversation is translated from Italian to English where suitable):

One day, I was on a long-haul train sharing a small cabin with a rich Italian lady since my usual corner — the “lower-class” coaches were full.

At first sight, I was generously bombarded by a dazzling display of fine possessions combined with the refined appearance of a focused, cultured scholar. What a sophisticated lady I thought initially.

An unforeseeable storm started to surface, however, as I greeted elatedly to try to build a friendly atmosphere with this newfound travel companion, but was left at an unreturned “Buongiorno”. Perhaps the lady was too focused on the wonderland inside her book.

Some minutes later, a waitress passed by to offer a drink and snack of choice included in the ticket for this upper-class cabin.

“What can I offer you?”

I (the coffee addict) swiftly made a request and got my daily dose of coffee before drowning in bliss (I was sitting on the aisle closer to the waitress).

“Good morning ma’am, what can I offer you?” The waitress then addressed the rich lady.

The air was met with silence and no eye contact was made.

“Should I come later?” The waitress suggested.

As the waitress was about to leave, the rich lady, still staring down at her “Holy Bible”, uttered a few blunt, discrete words out of the blue: “Coffee, water, sweet snack.” (“Please!!” My brain tried to auto-complete the brusque request).

Without hesitation, the waitress skilfully prepared a cup of coffee, a glass of water and a handful of coconut biscuits and laid them cleanly on a plate.

She then handed over the plate. For almost half a minute, her hands were hanging in mid-air awkwardly.

“Ma’am, here are your drinks and snack.” The waitress made sure the lady knows they are ready.

Ms. Snobby was still silent. Her hands seem to be completely able as she flipped through the pages without any problem. It looks as though she was expecting them to be delivered right in front of her on a silver platter (there is a small window-side table, but only reachable when combining the arm’s length of two). I was sitting in between, watching the arm of the waitress starting to tremble. Tension was growing.

In a blaze of unease, I took the plate to the table in order to spare the petrified waitress. Still no response, not even a “Grazie”.

What’s more, Ms. Snobby frowned unexpectedly before promptly returning to her Holy Bible. It was at this point that I knew I was indisputably sitting with an asshat, and my annoyed brain started to replay a stream of curse words over and over.

Resentment kept growing silently in this tainted atmosphere. Hours passed by. Naples is still far. “What am I going to do with it?”

Bologna, Florence, Rome…“Roma Centrale, scendere dal lato destro”.

After this announcement, I sensed that the lady started moving. Unsurprisingly, she packed up swiftly, put on her Versace coat and stood up, while leaving a bunch of trash and leftovers on the window-side table. As predicted, Ms. Snobby expected things to bend to her wish by default.

“I need to get off.” Ms. Snobby said with a commanding tone.

At this moment, I decided I must not be a pushover. Without ambiguity, I deliberately turned away and kept my legs tight. Ms. Snobby then began to lose her temper.

“I need to catch a connection. You are blocking the way.” Ms. Snobby commanded again.

“I think you have to clean your mess, then you must add a ‘Please’ at the end of the sentence, and maybe I will consider letting you pass,” I replied.

Ms. Snobby frowned again, this time with teeth grinding.

I then opened the trash lid and invited her to throw her trash. Reluctantly, she did so while mumbling something unintelligibly. In the end, she shouted “Please”.

“Roma Centrale, scendere dal treno. Le porte stanno per chiudersi.” The frightening computer voice announced again.

I stood up in slow motion and took something from my backpack before slowly stepping aside. At last, I watched Ms. Snobby storming out of the train from behind. I can’t help but smirk a little, feeling that I had done humanity a favor. That’s karma.

Let’s get out of the story here. I would like you to pause for a moment and think about this question: Do you think it is possible to use kindness, acceptance, and positivity to teach this rich lady a lesson?

To transform for good, sometimes we must burn bridges, instead of further reinforcing a bridge that was built at the wrong location or leads towards the wrong direction — “toxic” kindness and tolerance is all too good at perpetuating a status quo. The same happens in metamorphosis, the original structure of the caterpillar must disintegrate first in order to re-imagine and assemble the mesmerizing butterfly.

But why should we transform into a butterfly, or anything else for that matter? Can’t we just stay a caterpillar?

Where the body does not undergo metamorphosis, the mind must

Did you know that over 80% of animal species metamorphose one way or the other? Metamorphosis in Biology entails a radical reconfiguration of the bodily shape and anatomy, and ultimately, behavior.

What’s more, the process of metamorphosis is only one small aspect of the reality of animal life. What really is happening is that nearly all life*, in fact, changes its life habits dramatically over the course of its lifetime, regardless of whether they fit the specific definitions of biological metamorphosis. I challenge you to name one animal that does not undergo a dramatic change of morphology and behaviors from birth to death.

* Barring organisms born almost identical to their parent (i.e., via binary fission), or are extremely short-lived and thus have insufficient time for changes. Nonetheless, it can be argued that even an individual bacterium could change and differentiate dramatically within a short time (see here and here).

Such dramatic changes are a quintessential aspect of life because of the universal evolutionary outcome of niche partitioning, where every actor distributes their talents/abilities to different ecological spaces and functions, compromising yet complementing. One stark example is that the old must change to make way for the newcomers to complete the eternal cycle of life. Without it, we would all be fiercely competing over the same resource in a rat race from age 0 to death. Imagine an elderly fighting over a lollipop with a child. Perhaps that’s the reason all cultures inherited derogatory descriptors like “man-child” to assert that to be a human, it is a necessary duty to grow out of our former shell and transform for some deep, unspoken reasons.

To transform doesn’t mean we have to take growth hormones to grow a unicorn or undergo plastic surgeries to rearrange our eyeballs. In cases where the body does not undergo metamorphosis, the mind and behavior must. In the 50+ years after puberty during which our natural bodily change is very slow, we have all the time to re-invent our minds and desires, in accordance with our innate (unconditioned) talent granted by our abnormally big brains.

The big challenge is that modern humans are trying very hard to erase this quintessential aspect of life. In a society programmed to compartmentalize your mind and make you stay right where your comfort zone is, many have become an automaton for life unwittingly. I bet there wouldn’t be many objections if I say that a good chunk of mature adults behaves like spoiled children nowadays — perhaps even worse, as they only respond to entertainment and excitement but have also surrendered the capacity to learn and transform. Without a truthful slap, there is very little chance to break free of this mental prison.

The average humans are very much like caterpillars busy munching on leaves, unaware of the cuckoos quietly watching over above. Sure, some caterpillars may say yummy, get fat, and call it a spring party. But someday, one by one, we get eaten and forgotten before we have the slightest clue about what it is like to be a butterfly.

Metamorphosis may not only happen once

Have you ever heard of the cliché that says: “Most people die after 25 y/o”? I say that most people die at the moment of birth. Embryogenesis is the only true transformation they have ever undertaken. The rest is merely an endless (boring) accumulation of quantity, all within a narrow comfort zone defined by societal expectations. Don’t be that person.

“Without the rope, then fear will find you again…” — in The Dark Knight Rise

A transformative form of courage only arises from the fear of losing something valuable, such as your meaningful life. Comfort removes fear.

Personally, it took around two and a half beatings for me to transform into the still flawed person I am today. The first one was from my Mother when I was a teen, another one from an ex in college, and a half is fairly recent about harsh criticisms/reality-checks when I first embarked on this Marmotian endeavor.

What’s exciting is that I expect more. More because my transformation must not end here. If a complex chemical soup harbors many possible equilibria, I believe my mind doesn’t have to settle in one way or the other. I guess it is kind of like in Buddhist philosophy that one can transcend through many layers of enlightenment?

While I don’t know what exactly constitutes enlightenment, I do know that transformation is possible. Not only possible, it is probable if you have the courage to accept a new role, new habit, and new mindset while avoiding ideological propaganda and rejecting mindless positivity. Negativity (as a truthful slap) could be your best friend ironically. All you have to do to bounce back up from the ashes and create something even better is to acknowledge that this is very simply, the eternal order of life (I hope this gives a new meaning to “No pain, no gain”).

“Suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice.” — Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

Yes, both a slap on the face and the shattering of an old paradigm inevitably hurt, but I no longer steer my life to avoid it. I believe that it is a kind of “necessary suffering” and will be a good thing in the long run. By now, I hope I have also convinced you that a good life is not all smooth line and comfort, a precious life skill is to embrace the necessary sufferings (based on truths) and avoid unnecessary ones (based on lies e.g., from fairytales of some sky daddy or self-made billionaires).

Do you think that a caterpillar knows it could become a butterfly? Can “you” imagine today’s version of “you” 10 years ago? Is it excruciatingly painful when a caterpillar “dissolves” itself in the chrysalis? Maybe or maybe not, all I know is that the butterfly must now have learned to feel the world differently, to enjoy the flowers, flutter, and find a worthy partner, all to successfully continue the cycle of life.

If you are one of those who have unfortunately been hurt by my honest words and truths before, I hereby apologize. I probably planned it but I did so out of trying to kick start the potential of metamorphosis hidden deep inside you.

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