KISSED BY A BUTTERFLY

Kissed by a butterfly? A real butterfly? Never heard of it. I thought that sort of thing only happened in eyelash encounters, fairy tales and country western songs.

On Saturday afternoon I was outside working on a small scale shelter-in-place project--laying seven 20” x 20” x 2” concrete blocks in a bare spot alongside the house. Not a big deal, right? Wrong. Once into it, I discovered that just beneath the soil’s surface lay a maze of roots, rocks and, of course, the TV cable; then I was one block short (I hate it when I do that!); and then I felt the early tremors of an earthquake about to erupt in my lower back. Those blocks were heavy! Topping it all off, upon reviewing my half-finished project the love of my life decided she had a better idea.

I was hot and sweaty, frustrated and feeling sorry for myself (It never takes very long, does it?) when something rich and rarified happened. One of the bright yellow butterflies that we’d seen floating among the backyard blossoms alighted on my cheek. On my cheek! Has that ever happened to you? I’ve heard that if you go find a meadow and sit perfectly still for a very long time--say a month or two--one may grace you with its divining presence. Supposedly, you can net one if you can talk your friends into helping you chase it into the next county. But I was shoveling dirt, tossing rocks over a fence, tug-o-warring roots--anything but sitting still...and it came to me!

However and “whyever” it happened, it did two things for me instantaneously. First, it pushed my pause button. I had just listened to a coronavirus update telling me that the World Health Organization had recorded nearly 2.8 million Covid-positive cases world-wide with 188 thousand deaths and that here in the United States the CDC reported nearly one million positive cases and over 50 thousand deaths. The reporters then highlighted issues of Covid-hot refugee “death camps” around the world, the cousin pandemic of exponentially mounting global food insecurity, and coronavirus risk among the homeless, and in particular, homeless youth here within our own borders. And here I am, fussing about my petty little Saturday afternoon happy-homeowner project? How myopic, self-serving and frankly, clueless, my thinking can be!

But second, that butterfly kiss did something else for me that turned out to be ultimately cathartic. It registered in my mind as a gift. In doing so reminded me of a whole host of gifts--a virtually unlimited number--that I am enjoying (probably you, too) even while this pandemic is raging both near and far. It urged me to examine my take-for-granted attitude that is coming into ever sharper, if painful, focus in these difficult days. And that's a good thing.

TODAY. DO YOURSELF AND THE WORLD A FAVOR.
TAKE TIME TO THINK ABOUT HOW YOU THINK