While attending Washington National Cathedral’s Sacred Circles conference a couple of weeks ago, I took a workshop with Carol Lee Flinders, the highly-acclaimed scholar of women’s studies and religion, most recently the author of “Enduring Lives: Portraits of Women and Faith in Action.”

Flinders called her workshop “Motherlines.” And she encouraged the 60 female participants there to express their thanks to the long line of women behind them, women who had forged the paths that made our current freedoms possible, women tied to us by blood who have supported us in spirit. At one point, we broke into pairs to discuss the spiritual legacies of our mothers, aunts, grandmothers, and other female wisdom figures. Whether a tragic case or a heroine, each woman has left a mark on us that’s important to recognize.

But then in passing, Flinders mentioned one tiny fact from the world of science (a field that obviously fascinates her), and I found this small fact so remarkable that I thought I’d pass it along to you. It’s a fact about the development of butterflies. I just didn’t know this, perhaps you did: When a caterpillar seals itself into its cocoon, it doesn’t just sprout wings from its fat wormy body. Once safely within the protective cocoon covering, the caterpillar’s body actually turns into a liquid, a soup of pre-programmed cells that contain the genetic code from which the butterfly’s body is automatically built.

I’m imagining that many of you will find this metaphor appealing. It might help you consider your current favorite cocoons. What safe place do you know where you can melt? In whose company can you dissolve into the soup you need to be before you are transformed? Some people have daily spiritual practices that help them change from caterpillars to soup, to butterflies. Others hold on to their old containers, resisting the necessary soup state. One wonders: If I dissolve completely, what will I then become? Best to go into the cocoon, I guess, like the butterfly, without great expectation or fear.

I couldn’t find any cocoon-y soup photos online, but here’s a film of a Monarch butterfly hatching from its cocoon for the first time, a wonderful thing to meditate upon as we contemplate the coming changes of springtime!