Daryl Wood's Blog

My friend is a Monarch butterfly supporter and every summer spends time nurturing and caring for the butterflies around her cottage home. I don’t know all the ins and outs of what she does but I do know that every now and then she ‘releases’ a monarch. Sometimes I see her along the roadways picking milkweed and sometimes she will send a picture or video. When the neighbour kids find a dead monarch they take it to her and she does a ceremonial burial. The southern migration began a few weeks ago so everyone has been talking about monarchs.

A while ago I visited her and her husband for their wise guidance during a difficult period. As always, they were kind, asked questions and shared their perspective. Something about our visit prompted her to invite me to a ‘release’ in the future. That day came this week. It was one of those days when emotion was rolling over me and I missed Doug so much. I kept that to myself because I didn’t want to change the energy of whatever this process was intended to be. When the call came, I slipped down the road and followed her instructions to sit quietly beside the little net house. Then the magic started.

A beautiful monarch was clinging to the side wall and motionless. We zipped open the netting and I placed my hand gently in the middle and waited. Within moments, this lovely girl (and yes, she told me it was a female) moved onto my palm and walked gently around on my skin. It was so quiet and so natural and so easy. I sat with her, letting whatever impulses she had play out. And when directed, I moved my hand outside of the net and she sat for a moment before flying slowly to a plant just beside the net. We watched as she hung on in silence occasionally shifting around on the thin fern leaf.

The intrigue continued as my friend said this was very unusual behaviour. She said they always fly up into a tree and look for a safe place but this one wasn’t going anywhere. As we sat and watched her opening and closing her wings she finally settled into a still position. Again, my friend and her husband both remarked on how unusual it was for her to just stay and then it came to me. She was pausing. She was taking a moment between this and that to pause and just be. We could make up stories about what she was sensing but in the end the feeling that she was just taking a break was obvious.

I couldn’t help but think of what I’d been up to lately, filling my days with activity to avoid the sadness that comes this time of year. I love the fall and always will and it carries memories of the hardest days of my life. And keeping busy is good and reminds me how connected I am to my community and this place I love and it also distracts from the meaningful self-care that I need in order to be with my feelings and not be overcome by them. The monarch took a pause. And I watched her with reverence for the message she was giving me and I was filled with gratitude once again. It can be hard to stay ink any place of awareness when I’m on the move. It doesn’t mean running away from any hard feelings or covering them up with happy thoughts. It means allowing whatever I am feeling to have a place within me and be honoured for the truth of life and being human. Letting the sorrow and joy live in harmony.

And while the days since have been filled with wonderful experiences, a spontaneous adventure, a thoughtful message, a warm interaction, I am aware that in between each opportunity to engage and celebrate and explore will be times when pausing is necessary.

When I asked about the monarch a couple of days later I was told that she ‘paused’ until daybreak. When the sun landed on her, she finally flew up into the sky and as my friend said ‘no doubt, on the first leg of her journey to Mexico for the winter’. Our skies have been full of monarchs these past few weeks as they start their migration. And this beautiful girl took a pause before her big trip. With lots of plans in the weeks ahead, I think I’ll do that too. I don’t know what it will look like but if a tiny monarch butterfly that instinctively follows an historic path of purpose many miles away can take a pause, then I can too. Maybe we all can.