Here's a story from the Storytellers of the Circles of Love - it touches on some of the themes that have been coming up recently... Hope you enjoy it!


The Butterfly Awakens

There was once a Rainbow Butterfly whose wings shimmered in every color that could be.

Though her wings were delicate, they were broad and open. When she opened her heart, her wings opened wide to the world, and her colors were displayed for all to see in their unique patterns. Those who saw her felt gladness in their hearts for she was beautiful and bright, and, in her wings, they saw colors they did not even know existed. People were fascinated by her, and enjoyed her miraculous display, as she flew by them in the fields or in the streets. For, when she opened her wings, she seemed to scatter color through all the world, and brighten everywhere she went. Even to the darkest, grayest places she brought her gift of colors.

In these places, her wings would shine out brighter, her colors would seem clearer and stronger, and the faces of those that saw her would brighten up with surprise and pleasure.
She loved, most of all, to fly into these gray places for she knew in her heart that she was showing the people a mirror; that her glittering wings were a mirror to the beauty that was hidden inside them. Each saw only their own beauty within her, and those that did not notice her could not see their own beauty. So she loved to fly far and wide, opening her heart and her wings to all, so that more would remember their beauty.

She would flutter and fly until her wings grew tired, and she would close them and rest for a while. Then she would enjoy the sights around her, the colors of the world, the shapes and textures of everything. She hungered for beauty, herself, at times. You see, she could not see her own wings, so she never saw the beauty that others could in her. There was no one to mirror her beauty back to her, and there were times when she forgot it herself. These were times when her heart seemed tired and heavy. She would go then to the high places and the open spaces, where she could look out at the flowers and the plants, at the blossoms and the trees, the glistening of the waxy grass. She would watch the creatures for a while and observe how the light played on everything and how everything played in the light. She would enjoy the beauty of all around her and soak it into her heart.

Soon she would feel herself revived, for she would be filled with love for the beauty of all that she was part of. Her energy would rise again, her heart and her wings would feel lighter, and she would set off into the air, once more, holding her mirror up to the world, to show its forgotten beauty. She would flutter around anyone who was heavy-laden or sad, whose face was downcast; anyone who had lost their color, who seemed dulled to the beauty around and within them. These, she would seek out, to brighten their eyes, if only they would look up.

Yet she knew well how they felt for, not long before, she had known a dark time, a gray phase without any color at all. Most of this time, she was held in a heavy slumber from which she could only awake with difficulty, and then only for brief moments. Her only relief was that sometimes in her sleep, a dream came, and she came to long for this dream. In her dream, her eyes were suddenly flooded with color, and she saw colors flooding out from her, pouring out of her, flowing out of her heart, which had been so heavy and dark. She would watch beautiful patterns appear, wonderfully lacy and delicate. Colors appeared one after the other, each more gorgeous and glowing than any she could have imagined. They flowed together into wonderful patterns of mirrors, shimmering like rainbow scales, and as they flowed out to each side of her, she saw that each side was mirroring the other exactly. So that she saw before her, two images in perfect symmetry, each mirroring the other, in their breathtaking patterns of color and light.

She would enjoy this image, drinking in the colors for as long as it lasted, because she knew, each time she had the dream, there would come the moment she dreaded. That moment when the mirror would shatter, the colors would crack, and both mirrors would fragment and fall, to disappear into the darkness. She would be left alone again and sad. Alone, but for the memory of this magical image, which had come to her in the dream. Again and again, she had this mysterious vision, and again and again, she was plunged back into darkness. Only the vivid memory of this vision of perfect symmetry sustained her; its beauty and color kept her hopes alive.

Until once, when she was there held in the shadows, the grayness itself suddenly seemed to shimmer and shift. She shook herself, to see if she was dreaming. For it seemed that there were subtle colors appearing in the dim, gray light. Then she saw a bright line begin to appear in front of her, like a single thread of light. She watched, entranced, as this thread of light grew thicker and thicker and brighter and brighter. It was dividing the grayness! And even the grayness was now filling with iridescent colors and marvelous patterns that shimmered and shone.

This ribbon of light grew still wider until it almost filled her whole field of vision. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the light so that she began to see colors and shapes emerging; wonderful patterns and forms began to appear. She felt light and air flood into her and surround her. She could feel her body moving, and it felt freer now. She began to wriggle and move, writhe and dance. She could feel that her little legs had become longer and more graceful, for now they stretched out in front of her. These long, long legs she had never seen before were reaching out into the light, as if to touch its source.

Then she remembered that she had woven this gray casing around herself. She had first slowly wriggled high up into a tree, while its leaves fell about her. She had climbed out onto a limb, and spun a thread to attach herself to the branch. The world was growing cold and its light seemed to be fading, and she had felt compelled to weave this gray chrysalis around herself. But had found herself then in darkness. After a time, she had even forgotten how she got there. She had spent her time in dreaming and forgetting, waking up always in the dark, wondering if this time would ever end. Now her cocoon had opened, she found she was free of the gray threads that she had wrapped around herself. The whole world had opened up, and she felt renewed, just as her body felt new to her.

She stepped out into this world with her new legs, and found herself walking along the branch, high up in the tree, which was now in full leaf. Bathed in golden green light, she gracefully made her way along a slender twig onto a wide green leaf. She walked along its body, testing out her new legs, for she was a little dizzy with joy and intoxicated with these new colors and experiences. At the edges of her vision, she kept seeing colors shimmering, but, though she looked around, she could not see where they came from. Yet this light shifted and shimmered in colors that glowed just like those she had seen in her dream, so clear and strong. The sunlight was holding her in its rays warm in the sun, which was strong and bright on her body. She drank in its light and she felt herself grow in love for all that she could see. After a time the colors around her grew stronger and brighter, so many colors she could see all around, but whose source she could not see. Suddenly she felt something stir in the back of her heart, and something opened. She felt a great rush of air and light into the back of her heart, and she felt it racing and pumping with joy, for something was stirring into life there.

She knew now that something was opening around her, and this something was the source of these wonderful colors; this rainbow of glowing tones that surrounded her. Although she could not see it, she could feel all the colors surrounding her. She felt within her a knowing begin to stir within her, something that seemed too wonderful to believe. For this knowing told her that she could leap now from this leaf and fly out into the world, just like the feathered ones she had often seen flying so freely. She doubted this for much more than a moment. How could she, who had once had such a stubby and heavy body, now fly into the air, like one of the feathered ones?

Yet something inside told her that she had changed so much in the time of darkness that now she, too, was ready to fly. Her transformation was complete. So she made her way to the edge of the leaf, her heart racing with excitement at all the possibilities that would open up to her, if this inner knowing were true. But when she looked over the jagged edge of the leaf, there seemed a very long way to fall. Still she knew she must test these wings of her heart.

So she took a great leap of faith and dived from the leaf. She found her heart opening to the light and the air…and, yes, she was flying! She could feel the great formations of color and pattern were fluttering around her, allowing her to fly, to be free. She could not see them, but she knew these were the shimmering visions of perfect symmetry and color from her dream. Now her dream had come true, her vision was made real, and she flew on and on, enjoying her freedom. She flew to greet every flower, tree and creature she could find and then she flew on over the changing landscape, until she found herself hovering over a busy city.

She fluttered down and began to fly through the canyons of brick and stone. So many of the people, she noticed, were worried and fearful, wrapped in thick, gray veils. Others walked with heavy clouds hanging over them. Yet some of them noticed the brilliant butterfly, flickering like a Rainbow Flame, and their faces lightened with delight. She realized that she brought them joy. She knew then this was to be her joy; to bring her light and color to those who had forgotten their own. She would find those who had forgotten their own true beauty, who were still in the shadows.

Like an Angel of love, she would share her beauty with the world, and shine her heart of love into the darkest places. In the flash of surprise of those who saw her, was a flicker of the memory of who they truly were, revealed in a flash of her wings. In the flicker of color and light from her mirrored wings, each saw their own light reflected. Her mirror showed a glimmer of the true faces that they had forgotten, and their joy was the joy of remembering themselves.

And it was one dull day in the city that she saw herself reflected for the first time. She had been flying through a shaded place, past high cliffs of brick, when she came to a wall made of many clouded mirrors. She hovered in front of one of the man-made mirrors, noticing a bright being dimly reflected there. When she realized the reflection was hers, the surprise set her heart fluttering! She could see the eyes of her own wings, with their rainbow colors, and their patterns that pulsated in lively rhythms though the air. And she could see beyond these…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the mirror, a down-turned face looked up. The one who raised his face saw a beautiful butterfly hovering before him, with the colors of a perfect dawn. He felt like he had awoken suddenly, and his heart fluttered a little. He felt like he had been half-asleep a moment before, and through the grayness of the window, he watched his awakener dance in the light breeze, as if she was celebrating something.
The happy butterfly then saw a smiling face in the mirror, with twinkling eyes that watched her every move. She understood this was no reflection, so she danced a special sign in the air, just for him, to show that she had noticed him. Then she fluttered on, along the row of mirrors, until a pair of eyes was raised up, and a face opened in surprise. This one also felt her heart lighten in a moment of joy.

The Sun had finally opened the heavy clouds, and the butterfly fluttered in front of his radiant face, so the woman felt like the Sun was winking at her. She relaxed back in her chair, and watched this winged one dance her patterns, so carefree. And she remembered this sensation from moments she had known. She saw her own smiling face reflected back in the mirror of the window, and she was reminded of her right to feel this happy every day. As the butterfly flew on, the feeling stayed with her. She looked around and saw her joy reflected in another smile nearby, on the face of one who knew what she was smiling at.

And, in that tower of clouded mirrors, two lights met, heart to heart.

The butterfly fluttered on, with her flickering wings. And on, through the world of shadow and light, she flies.