I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, but I took this little video as a metaphor for my life, all 80 years of it. So many struggles along the way, from the moment that fertilized egg took root in my mother’s womb and began to grow, multiplying cells– tens, hundreds, thousands, millions, billions, trillions- inflating, unfolding. Then the struggle to accommodate myself to a culture, and the even more difficult struggle to at least partially extract myself from the culture of my birth. Even now, at this late date, I feel a bit like that stick insect pulling its last leg free.
It’s more than a metaphor, of course. We are all of a piece, the insect and I, the same biochemistry, shaped by the same forces of natural selection to survive in a hostile world. But take it as a metaphor. A metaphor of humanity’s not yet finished hatching. A line from Yeats comes to mind: “A terrible beauty is born.”