A few years ago on an unsuspecting late summer evening at the farm with Mark, I walked along the side of the grove as I often would do while he was busy working - walking beside a living history that had seen and withstood more seasons than I could merely ever dream to know. One foot set in front of the other, I followed an unsuspecting path left by the tires of a tractor. A path pressed into the earth and laid before me - leading me in a direction in which would uncover one of the most meaningful and beautiful experiences in my life. It continues to serve as a reminder that the most simple of moments, those moments of mere chance, can hold the greatest unsuspecting lessons and be the most priceless of gifts.
As I walked through the grove that evening hundreds of Monarch butterflies flew around me, beside me, and amongst the branches. The Monarchs were migrating south for the winter - a sight I had only heard about but had never experienced. Growing up, seeing a single Monarch was always something so incredibly special. It always felt like a gift to see one. There seemed to be some sort of magic in each sighting - even if just for a fleeting moment. Their wings drenched in such unmistakable and unsuspecting beauty in which is silent and never seen unless your attention is held within that single moment - pulled from the alluring chaos of a blurred and busied life.
This past weekend I was walking along that same storied row of trees and brush and happened upon the same phenomenon. I had missed the mass migration by a few days but there were still a dozen or more that stayed behind. Monarchs danced amidst a vibrant blue sky, not fighting against the prairie wind but instead allowing it to carry them higher. Their beautiful wings trusted to the air in which they couldn't see but could only merely feel. I still trust there's a bit of magic within those moments. That each Monarch must simply outstretch their wings and believe in the unseen. And that trust? It makes them soar. When they'd land I was taken aback by the way in which their wings would outstretch as if almost to an unheard rhythm. Lifting their wings to the heavens - their brilliance composing a chorus of hope that cannot be heard but only seen.
In a quick unfolding of events, on Wednesday morning I boarded a plane to New Haven, Connecticut. A few months ago in a spur of a moment decision I took a chance and sent an email inquiring about a study opportunity at Yale New Haven Health. I'm not sure what made me write that first email. No, wait. I do know. Hope, and a deep trust in which I cannot see but can feel within every breath. There are many unknowns to unfold in the following days, and ones in which I will share more about after next week. For now, I have gratefully spread my wings and am trusting that this opportunity will continue to unfold - rooted in a beauty that will forever leave me changed for the better - no matter where the path leads.
More to come, dear friends. Great love to you all.
No comments:
Post a Comment