Monday, August 28, 2017
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
The Butterfly Woman
When my mother was dying, I was in the room with her and had my head on her body. We rested together. She said weakly, "Toni, you are going to go so much further than I did." I shook my head and cried, "Mom, that is impossible. Look at how many people love you, and look at all the good things you have done." She said, "No, You are going to fly." I promised her that I would try. From that point on, I have stayed true to my promise, and worked like a dog to allow my life to grow and reshape. It is a never ending journey.
On the second anniversary of her death, our small family gathered at the Wilshire Baptist Church chapel, and together and via phone, we shared memories, songs, and thoughts. I wrote this poem for her the night before. It had been a very difficult few days of recognizing things about myself that needed to change. I wrote this on January 8, 2015.
*********************
Quiet Loving
Mist hangs over the water as I gaze out the window.
Branches are bare as they were two years ago today.
My thoughts are quiet, calm, not yet peaceful... but getting there.
You told me, two years ago, that I would fly.
I did not believe you and shook my head.
You encouraged me to love deeply.
I said I would try.
Then there was silence.
I laid my head on your chest.
Quiet loving,
Quiet knowing.
You were nudging me out of the nest...I see that now.
Giving me permission to fly.
I have felt your quiet nudging from afar as well
And wondered at the mystery of this thing called death.
Through your passing, I have learned to love deeply.
Through your passing, I have learned to feel deeply.
Through your passing, life has been both very difficult and very meaningful.
And that is this thing called life.
How could I learn so much from someone who is no longer here?
Although the branches are bare as they were two years ago,
My heart still feels your presence and love.
You live on, not only in our minds and hearts, but in our souls.
In my silence,
I lay my head on your chest,
Quiet loving,
Quiet knowing.
************************
Her "guidance" continued, as has guidance from so many helpful and loving people that swooped into my life. Those few words before her death, were to set a trajectory that have had an enormous ripple effect.
When I was hiking in Escalante, Utah, I walked into a part of a canyon, and I got chills all over my body. A woman I had met on a hike, the day before, had told me about a section of this hike where she looked up and saw a cloud that she knew was her mother. I know what this feels like, and as I felt these same feelings on this very same hike the next day, I realized I was in the same spot she had described. I looked up, and I saw a beautiful yellow butterfly leading me through the canyon. Whether you think this is real or simply metaphorical does not matter to me, but I felt my mother. The strange thing is, the butterfly theme has been coming into my life through new friends who have proven to be important guides, as well as in my own art.
I read something, two nights ago, that solidified this for me (as if I needed more). It was in "Women Who Run With the Wolves", chapter 7 about women's bodies and our spirit. Clarissa Estes reads a story about "La Mariposa", or Butterfly Woman. She says, "Butterfly Woman mends the erroneous idea that transformation is only for the tortured, the saintly, or only for the fabulously strong. The Self need not carry mountains to transform. A little is enough. A little goes a long way. A little changes much. The fertilizing force replaces the moving of mountains. Butterfly Maiden pollinates the souls of the earth: it is easier than you think."
I recently returned to America with the knowledge that I need to make a difference; in fact we all do. My mother taught me this and I finally understand that she made a difference every single day of her life. Was she a perfect person?... Absolutely not. And we did have our own mother/daughter issues. But, she had a passionate drive to make the world around her a better place... And she succeeded. A butterfly is a small, beautiful creature with a delicate body and a short lifespan. But, even with that fragility and small body, a butterfly can change the course of the world, and when you get a lot of butterflies together... Watch out! Major changes will happen.
I went out for a walk in Philadelphia yesterday with the purpose of finding a butterfly to photograph for this blog entry. I did not tell my friend, Ariane, that I was going to do this, nor have I told her any of my thoughts or experiences about butterflies thus far. She suggested that while she was teaching piano yesterday, that I go to buy groceries in the Italian Market, and if I wanted to, walk around Queen's Village. On the way, I passed a museum that I have always wanted to go into, but alas, it was closed. I took photos anyway and realized, as I looked into my phone screen, that the mosaics reminded me of butterfly wings. I thought this was beautiful and continued my walk.
Magic Garden
I ambled through Queen's Village and thought, "Well, this is an ok place but maybe I am not in the right area because it is not especially memorable." I was taking a photograph of a cool stencil on a wall and literally thought, "I guess I will just look up butterfly images online and use a stock photo." At that point, I turned around and saw, on the wall right to my back, an entire mural of butterflies. The mural was painted by Conrad Booker. I was blown away. It was painted on the side of a building used for after school programs in music, art, and dance.
I know, that as I board my flight back to Dallas now, that this time in Philly has been a time to rest, to help out a friend, and to think about how I want to allow my life to unfold. A chrysalis, so to speak. It is really going to unfold exactly as it is intended, but what I do have control of is making sure that I help it to unfold using the grace, beauty, and stamina of a butterfly. I know that what I love about butterflies is that they are all different and all beautiful in their own right. What a beautiful world we live in. My mother understood the beauty of difference, whether it be racial, socio-economic, gay, trans, or straight , etc.... I saw this exemplified over and over. She made a difference in people's lives when they felt chastised by other people. How do I know this? They have told me.
Today, there is fear all over America, concerning these issues. We are ALL beautiful, and we are all butterflies. I hope we will join hands and do what we can to help those around us, including ourselves, feel like we are gorgeous, unfolding butterflies who deserve to be and live beautifully.
On the second anniversary of her death, our small family gathered at the Wilshire Baptist Church chapel, and together and via phone, we shared memories, songs, and thoughts. I wrote this poem for her the night before. It had been a very difficult few days of recognizing things about myself that needed to change. I wrote this on January 8, 2015.
*********************
Quiet Loving
Mist hangs over the water as I gaze out the window.
Branches are bare as they were two years ago today.
My thoughts are quiet, calm, not yet peaceful... but getting there.
You told me, two years ago, that I would fly.
I did not believe you and shook my head.
You encouraged me to love deeply.
I said I would try.
Then there was silence.
I laid my head on your chest.
Quiet loving,
Quiet knowing.
You were nudging me out of the nest...I see that now.
Giving me permission to fly.
I have felt your quiet nudging from afar as well
And wondered at the mystery of this thing called death.
Through your passing, I have learned to love deeply.
Through your passing, I have learned to feel deeply.
Through your passing, life has been both very difficult and very meaningful.
And that is this thing called life.
How could I learn so much from someone who is no longer here?
Although the branches are bare as they were two years ago,
My heart still feels your presence and love.
You live on, not only in our minds and hearts, but in our souls.
In my silence,
I lay my head on your chest,
Quiet loving,
Quiet knowing.
************************
Her "guidance" continued, as has guidance from so many helpful and loving people that swooped into my life. Those few words before her death, were to set a trajectory that have had an enormous ripple effect.
When I was hiking in Escalante, Utah, I walked into a part of a canyon, and I got chills all over my body. A woman I had met on a hike, the day before, had told me about a section of this hike where she looked up and saw a cloud that she knew was her mother. I know what this feels like, and as I felt these same feelings on this very same hike the next day, I realized I was in the same spot she had described. I looked up, and I saw a beautiful yellow butterfly leading me through the canyon. Whether you think this is real or simply metaphorical does not matter to me, but I felt my mother. The strange thing is, the butterfly theme has been coming into my life through new friends who have proven to be important guides, as well as in my own art.
I read something, two nights ago, that solidified this for me (as if I needed more). It was in "Women Who Run With the Wolves", chapter 7 about women's bodies and our spirit. Clarissa Estes reads a story about "La Mariposa", or Butterfly Woman. She says, "Butterfly Woman mends the erroneous idea that transformation is only for the tortured, the saintly, or only for the fabulously strong. The Self need not carry mountains to transform. A little is enough. A little goes a long way. A little changes much. The fertilizing force replaces the moving of mountains. Butterfly Maiden pollinates the souls of the earth: it is easier than you think."
I recently returned to America with the knowledge that I need to make a difference; in fact we all do. My mother taught me this and I finally understand that she made a difference every single day of her life. Was she a perfect person?... Absolutely not. And we did have our own mother/daughter issues. But, she had a passionate drive to make the world around her a better place... And she succeeded. A butterfly is a small, beautiful creature with a delicate body and a short lifespan. But, even with that fragility and small body, a butterfly can change the course of the world, and when you get a lot of butterflies together... Watch out! Major changes will happen.
I went out for a walk in Philadelphia yesterday with the purpose of finding a butterfly to photograph for this blog entry. I did not tell my friend, Ariane, that I was going to do this, nor have I told her any of my thoughts or experiences about butterflies thus far. She suggested that while she was teaching piano yesterday, that I go to buy groceries in the Italian Market, and if I wanted to, walk around Queen's Village. On the way, I passed a museum that I have always wanted to go into, but alas, it was closed. I took photos anyway and realized, as I looked into my phone screen, that the mosaics reminded me of butterfly wings. I thought this was beautiful and continued my walk.
 |
I ambled through Queen's Village and thought, "Well, this is an ok place but maybe I am not in the right area because it is not especially memorable." I was taking a photograph of a cool stencil on a wall and literally thought, "I guess I will just look up butterfly images online and use a stock photo." At that point, I turned around and saw, on the wall right to my back, an entire mural of butterflies. The mural was painted by Conrad Booker. I was blown away. It was painted on the side of a building used for after school programs in music, art, and dance.
I know, that as I board my flight back to Dallas now, that this time in Philly has been a time to rest, to help out a friend, and to think about how I want to allow my life to unfold. A chrysalis, so to speak. It is really going to unfold exactly as it is intended, but what I do have control of is making sure that I help it to unfold using the grace, beauty, and stamina of a butterfly. I know that what I love about butterflies is that they are all different and all beautiful in their own right. What a beautiful world we live in. My mother understood the beauty of difference, whether it be racial, socio-economic, gay, trans, or straight , etc.... I saw this exemplified over and over. She made a difference in people's lives when they felt chastised by other people. How do I know this? They have told me.
Today, there is fear all over America, concerning these issues. We are ALL beautiful, and we are all butterflies. I hope we will join hands and do what we can to help those around us, including ourselves, feel like we are gorgeous, unfolding butterflies who deserve to be and live beautifully.
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