When I was eleven years old, I said I wanted to live in Oregon. Never stepping foot in the state my parents, brother and I road-tripped there two years later. Bathed in fish juice we learned not to tailgate the fish truck as we rounded the corner, climbing the cliffs, seeking the view.

Adult eyes see same things differently than kid eyes. Did I see the beauty then like I see now? No. I didn’t understand how to appreciate the simpleness of nature, of life.

A monarch butterfly invading my days, ever-present this last month, I noted. Flitting, flying, lifting in the breeze, he dazzles. Change. Transformation. Spiritual awakening. The butterfly creates it’s own retreat, going within, seeking quiet, stillness, his body undergoes the magic.

Emerging, brilliant in form, perfect in spendor, no one would dare say the butterfly was wrong to change from a caterpillar to butterfly.

Learn from nature and be such.

Allow each to become who they choose to be, judging not.