"Taking Flight" by Linda Bowman

When I was a little girl, I had a fantasy that if I tried hard enough I could fly. If I ran really fast and flapped my little arms at the top of a hill, I could fly. I would see butterflies and birds dancing in the air and thought, I want to be up there with them. No matter how much effort I put into it I would either fall down or my arms would give out from being exhausted. I didn’t only do this once or twice, if my memory serves me well I did it several times throughout that year of my life. 

The “trying to fly” passed as I grew older, but the delight of seeing butterflies dancing in the air always brought a smile to my face. Their gentle wings gliding through the air in all their glorious color brings peace to my soul. As they land on a flower with their dainty legs and use their feet to taste, I watch them as they are deciding to take a drink. Fun fact: butterflies don’t have teeth, so they can’t chew.  Liquids are their diet and they use the taste receptors on their feet to decide if it’s something they want. 

As years passed, I discovered my passion for butterflies became more than being enamored by their beauty. I began to read poetry about butterflies and learn how they contribute greatly to the ecosystem. I was fascinated by their metamorphosis. The way they go from egg, caterpillar, chrysalis, (cocoon) to butterfly is incredibly amazing to watch. The journey to become who they are meant to be resonated with me in a deep, connective way. They just let it happen, moving gracefully from one stage to another. If only it was that easy. There was definitely something for me to learn here.  

As I researched the plight of the Monarch butterfly and their decline in areas around the world, I was more engaged than ever in doing something to help them. In my tiny corner of the world, I could make a difference. About 7 years ago my best friend had a huge amount of monarch caterpillars in her yard and was running out of milkweed. She called me to see if I’d like to take them and start a butterfly garden. Without hesitation, I was there with my car transporting them to my house. 

So the journey began, I read how they have a much better survival rate if I were to raise them in a contained enclosure. I bought everything I needed and started raising Monarch’s. I kept a journal for whenever I would release a butterfly. I started naming them but when I got to 200 I gave up the individual names and called each new Monarch “Sicily.” I can’t remember why I chose that, but I liked  it. As each Monarch was born I was filled with the most peaceful, joyful sensation that ran through my body. It was exhilarating to watch the transformation and feel their legs perched on my hand as I released them. The centering and grounding I felt from being immersed in their journey kept me mindful of my own journey through life. Some of the butterflies would hatch but were not going to make it. I would sit with sadness as I buried them and released it to nature. Always reminding me of our human path, being present until death, and letting go. Transformation, acceptance, and letting go helps to keep me present within my life. It has not come easily and I continue to struggle. My monarchs teach me that cocooning is sometimes necessary, shedding old patterns that don’t serve me is beneficial, have confidence in trying new things, and don’t be afraid to take flight to become the best me. These are priceless gifts, and I am eternally grateful for nature. ~ 

Linda Bowman