A Butterflies Tale...

A sweet, subtle spiritual experience from my adventures into spirituality.

                  A Butterflies Tale

                                                    

 

          When I was a young child I had many experiences with nature spirits. I played, sang and spoke with fairy folks. I could sit at the beehive and eat honey almost anytime. Although it seemed to me that whenever a batch of honey was ready the bees seemed to buzz louder as if calling me to lunch with a yummmmmm sound.

          We lived near the green lush banks of the Kalamazoo River in Comstalk Michigan when I was little. I often fished from the side of the riverbank that was filled with poison ivy without as much as a slight rash. I felt blessed during that portion of my life. Granny, my mommy's mom had often taken me to church and read many passages form the Bible to me in an effort to teach me the gospel. But after my parents moved us to California and their subsequent divorce I lost interest in the harmony of life and for more than a few years I felt lost and alone. Puberty hit me very hard and with no one to turn to I became a sad lonely person.

 

          As a young woman I became interested in the spiritual. At the tender age of 23 I took on the task of delving into the investigation of spirituality itself. I read the Bible from cover to cover, the Book of Mormon, the Collective writings of Confuses and The Tao of Jeet Kun Do by Bruce Lee. Also taking up the practice of yoga, EST and I even read Zolar's Book of Ancient and forbidden knowledge. However at a particular space and time I found myself in the midst of reading, DISCORSESES written by the East Indian Avatar, Meher Baba.

 

          On this one bright spring day in mid May, I was in the middle of Voll. II.

 As my husband and his friend were talking about a Cadillac that Nick was rebuilding in the back yard. I sat there reading and had the strangest urge to walk over and open the front door. So I marked my page laid the book on the floor, where I’d been comfortably sitting in a half lotus, and opened the door. To my astonishment there, at my front door, flying approximately at eye level were two small greenish white butterflies!

 

          "We've come for a visit, may we enter?" I thought I heard them sweetly whisper in unison, as their wings softly fluttered in the spring breeze.

 

          “Well, of course you can come in.” I said politely, giggling as they flew directly into my living room. Although I knew not why, they seemed to respond to me as well.

 

          "We've lingered much too long and have things to do before the day is done." Their soft whispering voices chimed.

 

          “Why Yes I understand,” I said as they flew toward my kitchen. But, just before they would’ve entered the kitchen, I opened a window smiled and said, “Good-bye” as they fluttered out into the warm late afternoon sun.

 

           Butterflies have only a 10 to 12 day life span after breaking through their chrysalis, baring they aren't devoured by a bird or a snake, and even a moment's time is a great deal of time in comparison. It touched my heart and soul. I even felt a bit honored that they'd spent so much of their life with me.

 

          The experience left me with a warm glowing feeling inside. As if I had been in the presence of something that had brought to me true spiritual enlightenment. My countenance changed and I became less an intellectual searcher of spirituality and more a believer in the truly spiritual. And now practice spirituality every day instead of just reading about it.

 

          To this day my husband and his friend probably think that I’m some sort of a kook or something. But it was a small thing really and I never gave it much thought until I took upon me the task of explaining the realms of spirituality in my writing.  With all I have read, heard about, written, all I have seen and everything I have experienced over these years since then, I know with a certainty that God/Goddess lives and loves each and every one of us. (It is a small thing really, not unlike butterflies.)

 

                                      An original story by: Margaret Barton-Wahl

 

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What an extraordinary story .. and so beautiful. Butterflies can represent so many things to different people; how you saw them during their brief lives was a true gift and yes, an honour to share such a special memory.

Your writing flows very calmly, rather like a slow moving stream and every so often curves to show something quite magical or as you write - spiritual. My feeling is that there is goodness and purity all around us, if we want to feel it, we must deserve it, search for it.

One little typo, not 'presents' but 'presence'

[Doug Ordunio]

A very good story, with lots of detail. The one feeling I had is that although you relate everything in a very cogent way, it seems slightly aloof. For example, you might want to add a few picturesque details that would describe the appearance of the Kalamazoo River (other than the poison ivy).

In addition, where you begin to refer to your interest in spirituality, you might want to get rid of the repetition:

As a young wife and mother, at the age of 23, I began to delve into spirituality. Lastly, the area is Comstock, Michigan.

Write on!

DO