Today is my last post about beautiful Mackinac Island, located between Michigan’s Lower and Upper Peninsulas.
I surely enjoyed a delightful visit there on my way back home to L’Anse in the Upper Peninsula a week or two ago.
Today might you enjoy pausing to watch butterflies flitting at the Wings of Mackinac Butterfly House on the island? If you pay a tad bit more when you purchase your horse-drawn carriage ride tickets, you may wander through the Butterfly House dreaming butterfly dreams.
That’s what I did.
If you visit a magical butterfly garden, may I offer advice?
Don’t rush in through the glass door in your usual busy mode.
If possible, slow down before you enter the butterfly abode.
Find a bench upon which to sit.
If no bench presents itself, find a tree and lean back against it, not worrying, no never worrying about grass stains, unless you’re wearing white pants. (If you’re wearing white, lean against the tree, feeling its bark with your hands.)
Breathe deeply, dear butterfly seeker.
They are waiting for you.
But first you must release your mind-filled-with-busy-thoughts.
Butterflies have a gift to offer us, but first we must enter their world of silent wings.
You have a choice as you wait to enter the Butterfly World. You might pause and think about your life briefly. Check in with your heart (which is starting to beat slower as you breathe, breathe, in, out, deeper now, feel it in your belly, breathe, deeper, deeper) and ask your heart, “What do you want?”
Ask yourself what you want in your life, now, right now, in this moment before you gently open the door to the Butterfly House. Listen in the slow beating silence to any answers which might arise. Don’t force an answer. Just ask the question and see.
Our heart always appreciates when we remember to acknowledge its deepest desire.
After your heart has spoken, or beaten softly, with steady assurance above sweet birdsong, enter the silence beneath your chattering thoughts.
Just watch the thoughts arise.
You can label them, “thought, thought, thought” or just watch the thoughts without attaching any importance to them. Don’t think of them as your thoughts. Think of them as a parade of thoughts just offering their opinion, not really important.
Keep your attention on your breath.
Deeper now, deeper, deeper.
You are now entering the Butterfly Silence.
It is almost time to enter their magical world.
When your feet are ready–not the thoughts, the thoughts always think they’re ready–move slowly toward the beckoning door.
Feel the earth beneath your shoes.
Feel your beating heart.
The relaxing silence in your mind.
Open the door to your Butterfly World and step in.
Yes, step in.
Move to the left, just a bit, away from the door, and stand silently.
Let your eyes meet the butterflies in flight, the butterflies resting, the butterflies suckling sweet flower nectar.
Perhaps you might whisper a silent sentence of gratitude.
Thank the Universe for butterflies.
Thank your heart for beating, for aliveness today.
Thank the song of butterfly wings–and the possibility of being guided deeper into your heart’s deepest desire, your heart’s deepest longing.
Now move softly, on your sturdy feet, through the butterfly house. No photography–yet. You might wait to bring forth your camera into their abode–until you’ve received your butterfly communion, your winged gift of spirit.
Simply walk clockwise or counter-clockwise through the flitting fluttering hushed world, feeling your legs, your feet, your hands, your invisible wings.
Yes, dear butterfly visitor, you too sprout invisible wings.
Can you sense them rising off your shoulders toward the heavens?
Can you sense them leading you to the freedom of open endless skies?
When you pass the sprite, pat his head.
Is your heart singing?
Take in the Butterfly Gardens with one look, one large, encompassing, all-seeing gaze.
Listen deep inside.
Can you hear the butterflies speaking to you?
Perhaps they’ll speak in human words, but usually they hum into your feelings, into the pockets of resistance in your bones, into any sadness in your chest. They hum with their rainbow wings beating faster than your eyes can blink, they hum into your marrow, relaxing, oh, yes, relaxing you so deeply that if an absorbed photographer accidentally shoves you or a child cries in dismay you allow it, yes, allow it, deeper and deeper as part of this Butterfly Heaven working its magic on levels we can’t imagine.
Feel your wings opening, opening.
Yes, the butterfly magic is working now.
You’ll fly to new vistas.
You’ll dance with abandon.
You’ll wear a butterfly smile as you walk back into the busy world, a gentle butterfly smile flitting at the corners of your mouth, sweet nectar blessing the world through your eyes.
You may take photos now–if it feels right.
You may talk with other friends of butterflies in the glass house.
You may even reach out your hand and try to touch, yes touch, the flitting butterflies, the magical creatures, the flower-blessed guides that will always, forevermore, lead you fearlessly toward a future you’ve never even imagined in your wildest butterfly dreams.
When it’s time to leave–your feet will know when it’s time–move slowly back into your world, shutting the door gently behind you, making sure no blue or orange or yellow creatures swarm against your legs, your chest, your head. Their spirit will help you alight upwards, urging you to take flight, to never look back, to fulfill the destiny written on your invisible wings, guiding you on, forward, always toward the fulfillment of your deepest desire.