Yesterday, while walking Pup, I saw a bright orange butterfly.
It was a tiny and beautiful butterfly — and very elegant.
Just as I spotted it, she flew away.
For the rest of our walk I kept thinking – I wish I could see that butterfly again.
When I was in the depth of my divorce my best friend’s mother said to me over and over, “Jamie, you are a butterfly.”
She was trying to tell me that someday, all the pain and awful fear would be behind me. She was trying to pump me up, encourage me, with love and support during all of the terrible trials, court dates, job loss, and other unexpected shenanigans of that major life chaos.
She wanted me to believe I had something to live for…
Something to look forward to…
Something to grow wings for…
I thought she was all foo foo talk, just to get me to smile. Like a 50-year old cheerleader at a losing football game, jumping up and down in the end zone with a plastic smile and pom poms. “Jamie, you are a butterfly! GO BUTTERFLIES!”
Give me a B! Give me a U! Give me a T!
What does that spell? BUT.
And, that’s what I was carrying around with me back then. A big, old “but” — but this and a but that. I wasn’t ready to step out of my cocoon and grow wings because all I could see was the life I “used” to have and what I had “lost.”
These days, however, I keep a quote next to my bed.
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us”
Kind of sounds like a butterfly doesn’t it? Leaving behind the cocoon and breaking out the wings.
Yesterday, on my walk with Pup — just as we reached the last tree (the last pee tree!) on Pup’s regular route — I looked down toward the ground and saw an orange spec flapping it’s wings back and forth.
The butterfly came back!
And, she landed on the pavement right in front of me.
I looked at her and smiled, and said “thank you” under my breath. Then, all of sudden she flew up in front of my face and flew around my hair. Then she was gone.
Every time I see butterflies I think of that moment when I was scarred and trapped inside a cocoon, too afraid to take a step forward into the unknown.
And then I get out my pom poms and dust off my wings and continue to fly toward the life that is waiting.