A trip in the Wayback Machine:
When we were little, every Sunday mom would scramble to get us ready for church and dad would sit out in the car honking the horn. My youngest brother wasn’t yet born, so it was just Jack and I getting in our Sunday best.
Jack needed help with buttons and shoe tying, so as soon as I was dressed, mom would plant me in the living room on the ottoman. I wasn’t to move. Couldn’t risk getting dirty, you know?
There wasn’t much to watch on TV on Sundays back then, but there was a bible kids show that animated short stories from the bible. I was watching this when the butterflies came out of the television set. Monarch butterflies dozens of them poured from the tv and flew all around the room. I just quietly watched as they alighted everywhere, including several landing upon me. Then, like faery dust caught in the beams of sun coming through the window, they were all gone.
I turned off the tv, mom came out with Jack all dressed in his finery. Mom checked me over and brushed at a bit of yellow and black dust upon my arm. Dad honked the horn and we were off to church.
As I get older, there are lots of memories that have faded. This is one of those strange ones that is clear and sharp as the day it happened. Childhood fancy? Daydreaming? Or something else? I don’t really sit down and try to analyze it. When I recall it, I remember how I felt; calm, peaceful and that everything was right with my little corner of the world. It still has the power to make me feel that way.
So, does it matter if it really happened or not?
Tags: Dreams
that is just really very cool! I love monarch butterflies and I missed them when I lived in Montana. Again, that is really very cool!
I don’t think whether it was real or not matters either. I have heard people talk of similar experiences reached through meditation. It’s interesting that the memory makes you feel;
“calm, peaceful and that everything was right with my little corner of the world”,
which is similar to other meditation techniques.
By the way, buttons and shoelaces are the bane of my existance nowadys. Full circle.
My grandmother swore to her dieing day that she once saw fairies in her house (when she was 14). I don’t think it really matters if they were real or not – what matters is the sense of wonder that she kept.