|(photo found on internet)|
One blustery October afternoon some years ago, when I was moving plants inside for the winter, I noticed an object hanging on the underside of a palm tree. I removed it, not knowing for sure what it was or what to do with it. The object was a tiny green chamber, dotted with gold markings, reminding me of an Egyptian sarcophagus. I quickly did some research on the internet and discovered that it was a butterfly chrysalis. I put it back where I had found it and kept an eye on it for several days, wondering what would happen next. Then I promptly forgot about it.
|(photo found on internet)|
I fixed a saucer of sugar water to feed the butterfly, though I didn't expect it to survive the night. But it slowly gained more strength and began to move around. I sensed there was something synchronistic about this experience; that the butterfly had some meaning for me, prompting me to take a deeper look at my life. As a matter of fact, I’d been feeling sad and anxious that whole year, realizing I’d gone astray from accomplishing many cherished goals. Like the butterfly, I’d been “crippled” by several life events, and was limping along, unhappy and unfulfilled.
I knew this magical creature could not last long in my house, but I wanted to enjoy its presence while I could. It was a privilege to have it in my home, and to watch its movements up close. One day, I named the butterfly “Benito,” the first name that popped into my head, only to discover later that Benito means “blessed”. I enjoyed having Benito as a companion, but it was a bittersweet experience. Since the weather was cold, there seemed no point in trying to release him outdoors. How sad it was to watch him beating his wings against the window, losing energy and wing fragments. He was being kept from his natural environment by the barrier of glass, unable to fulfill his butterfly potential.
In the end, I couldn’t bear the thought of finding Benito dead one day, a prisoner in my house. Fortunately, fate stepped in during the next week, providing a string of days as warm as spring. On an impulse, I scooped Benito up one morning and took him outside. I wasn’t sure if he could fly, but I knew I had to give him that chance. I could keep him “safe” and watch him die, or I could let him fly free, and see what happened. When I released him, despite the torn wings, Benito took off in an instant, and was quickly gone from sight, headed toward the wetlands. Even if his life in the wild was a short one, at least he was able to fulfill his destiny as a butterfly. Watching him fly away, I knew he was a messenger, “blessing” the way to change.
I saw myself like that fragile butterfly, beating my wings against a barrier that held me back from reaching my potential. I had the definite feeling that transformation was needed in my life, but in order for that to happen, I’d have to find the courage to let go of the “safe” and predictable life I was leading. It took me another six months to make some long needed changes, accompanied by anguish, doubt and grief. But once things got rolling, a new momentum began to build, and I discovered a flurry of new ideas, new opportunities, and new experiences opening up in my life. Within a year, I was able to accomplish numerous goals that I’d been distracted from completing for nearly a decade. My life is flourishing as a result of those changes, and the momentum continues to build as I continue to challenge myself with new goals.
As butterflies appear in your lives this fall, I encourage you to consider the prospect of transformation in your own life. Don’t wait for crippling life events to occur before you consider making much needed changes. By the very act of choosing transformation over stagnation, we become energized to create a more satisfying and rewarding life. Like Benito, I encourage you to fly eagerly and willfully into your destiny, fulfilling your unique potential, broken wings and all.
Copyright © 2006 Marybeth Bethel (excluding photos)