The Butterfly

The butterfly has always had meaning and significance to me. The caterpillar turning into a butterfly may seem like quite a simple metaphor about change; however, the complexity of the process from caterpillar to butterfly is understated. A caterpillar is a hairy little creature that has many legs and antennas and such and it slinks around, trying to find the perfect tree or leaf to attach itself to in order to spin itself into this beautiful, colorful graceful creature. And then, after it becomes this colorful, graceful creature it flits and floats around, enjoying the scents of Butterfly Bushes and Daisies and Roses and lives a short life and dies. I have never seen a butterfly die, like I have when I see a moth with wet wings struggling. I have never seen the remains of a butterfly or even a cocoon for that matter. Butterflies are like enigmas-they show up when they should and disappear when they are ready to. They live in the moment and then-whoosh-they are gone.

My butterfly showed up today.

I came home after a particularly annoying outing with Chester and Stanley. The goal was Nederland at a park by the lake where I could eat my picnic lunch and the dogs could run, sniff and swim. Well...Boulder Canyon was closed to my annoyance after being in the car with Chester whining and Stan looking uber uncomfortable. Coming back, we stopped along Boulder Creek to picnic and walk but the picnic was short and the walk really annoying-Chester would have liked nothing more than to have jumped into the creek. I knew it was time for all of us to get back in the car and come home. So home we came. And I started working on the yard, knowing that I won't touch it for 10 days while I am gone. The house will be well guarded with Uncle Bob and the yard will be watered by my loving neighbor, but I felt it needed that extra love prior to a trip.

I saw her early in the afternoon. She flitted around as I mowed my little back grass patch. I recently had two Butterfly Bushes planted so I thought..."Great! She got the message!"

Well...an hour later she was still around. And she hung out by me. I was sweeping and just doing yard work and this butterfly kept flying around me. Finally she landed on a leaf that was close to me and sat there for several minutes. I got close and started to talk to her. No kidding...she moved around so she would face me as I chatted to myself in the garden. I was, though, talking to her. I told her how much she has always meant to me. I told her how beautiful she was. I then gasped at yet another connection this butterfly made to my life.

"The women."

The women in this sense are the ones Lorrie and I work with every Sunday. Lorrie recently just brought a book for graphic designers about butterflies so we could paint/draw/stamp them. The designs of butterflies in the book are breathtaking; the women who draw them can't believe they are looking at this beauty. However...these women with whom I am with every Sunday are my butterflies. They have relationship issues. Health problems. Financial woes. But the beauty in each and every one of them speaks so loudly that these cocoons or shells of who they were could be shed, easily, for the beauty of something more.

And then I thought...is this butterfly for me? Is it Mike? Is it my own empowering angel helping me to recognize my beauty in order to move forward? She stayed for a while. I hunched down as her wings came together. She sat there as I told her how amazing and wonderful she was. I realized after she flitted away that maybe it was me I was talking to.