Butterfly in a jar ( a story)

Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude. Dennis Waitley

There was a beautiful little butterfly who lived within a glass jar. She was very happy in her home upon a windowsill. Safe behind the glass, she gazed out upon the world beyond and felt smug in her glass enclosure. "This is where I belong," she whispered as she watched the seasons change. "I am happy here."

One day, a little boy walked by the window and saw the butterfly high up upon the ledge. "What a silly place for a butterfly to be," he thought and decided to free the butterfly from her glass home. He walked into the room. Walked straight up to the window sill where the butterfly's jar sat. He took the jar down from the ledge and carried it outside.

The butterfly, never having felt the motion of having her home moved, was frightened. "What's happening?" she cried out as the boy carried her through the door, out into the wide blue wander beyond her window sill.

The boy didn't answer. Once outside, he carefully unscrewed the lid from the butterfly's jar and held the open jar up in the air. "There!" he exclaimed. "You can fly free where you belong."

The butterfly didn't budge. She clung to a twig in her jar, holding on for her life as the boy shook the jar trying to force her out.

"Silly butterfly," the boy said. He shook the jar harder.

The butterfly clung harder to her twig.

Finally, exasperated with her lack of initiative to leave the jar, the boy flung the jar to the ground. It broke into a thousand pieces of glass.

The butterfly, terrified with all the new sensations racing towards her, the feeling of air, of broken glass, of sunlight upon her delicate wings, clung even harder to the twig.

The boy yelled louder at her to let go. The butterfly clung tighter.

Finally, tired of watching her cower in fear, the boy leaned down and picked up the twig and the butterfly and held them up in the air.

"Butterfly," he said. "You gotta fly free. You can't be happy living in a glass jar. You gotta be flying amongst the flowers."

The butterfly was confused. Not happy living in her glass jar? She loved her glass jar. She loved looking at the world outside while she sat safe within the confines of her home. What on earth was he talking about?

The boy sighed. He held his arm out straight, the twig and butterfly extended as far from his body as possible. Slowly, he began to run. One step after another, his arm held out from his body, the twig and butterfly held aloft. As he ran, he began to move his arm up and down, up and down, like butterfly wings flapping.

The butterfly, not accustomed to the air against her face, the wind beneath her wings, clung tighter. But she was not strong enough to withstand the movement of his arm, up and down. Her tiny legs grew tired of holding onto the twig. She knew she could not cling to it much longer. She was losing her grip.

Just as she thought she would lose her grip and fall to the ground, with a mighty flap of his arm, the boy threw the twig into the air. The butterfly gasped as she felt the safety of his arm withdrawn. She cried out as she felt her body lifted up. She hung suspended in the air with nothing more than the wind beneath her wings. In desperation, she let go of the twig, desperately clamouring to grab onto the boy's sleeve. But he was too fast. Too quick. Too sly. He withdrew his arm and stopped running.

The butterfly hung suspended in the air. Her fragile wings outspread. The sun glimmering off the beautiful colours of her beauty.

"I'm falling. I'm falling," she screamed as her body hurtled towards the ground.

She began to fold her wings in to protect herself from the fall. As her wings dropped down, the speed of her fall lessened. She spread her wings out to steady her descent. As she spread her wings, she gained height. She pulled her wings in. She spread her wings out.

"I'm flying. I'm flying," she called out, her beautiful wings carrying her away from the little boy who had set her free. Joyfully, she flew away from the shattered fragments of the glass jar that had kept her confined within the safety of its enclosure.

And as she flew, she knew happiness for the first time in her life. "Aaahhh," she whispered to the wind beneath her wings. "This is what joy feels like. This is what it means to be free."
May you know a day of wings spread wide. Of flying freely in glorious freedom. May you experience the joy of leaving enclosures shattered in your past. Of flying with grace and ease through limiting beliefs into the wild blue yonder beyond your wildest dreams.
The question is: Are you willing to break the glass jar around your heart and set yourself free in love?