Samhain And The Yellow Butterfly

Last updated on: October 18, 2010 at 1:10 pm by Peter Dybing

Samhain And The Yellow Butterfly 2010-10-18T13:10:00-06:00 Peter Dybing

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Dark thoughts, gentle joys, regrets, gratitude and self-reflection are experiences that consume me as Samhain approaches. Not surprising given my journey in this life. Born in 1961, I came of age in the 1970’s, during the generation of Sex Drugs and Rock & Roll. Over the years my secret desire to be born into a more meaningful generation has always haunted me. Viewing the generation that preceded mine, the 60’s, love, peace and the idea that individuals can change the world left me feeling as if I was born a decade to late.

Like many teens I fully engaged in the activities of my generation. For me, the self-indulgent message of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” was more influential in my young life than thoughts of creating a better world. For years, my mother witnessed her child sink progressively lower into behaviors that were self-destructive. While her disappointment was evident, when my behaviors lead me to a dead end, she always picked me up, comforted me and expressed her love. She was truly a remarkable woman. Eventually, in a moment of dark despair, her unconditional love saved my life. Through her I learned to have compassion for others, to believe that I had a purpose in life and that love is powerful and beyond all rational understanding.

It is an understatement to say that her love created a true metamorphosis in who I am. Suddenly I wanted to be like my mom, engaged in service to others, seeking truth and meaning in life, and above all compassionate. This quest led to spiritual seeking that included Native American beliefs and eventually the Pagan community. As a new Pagan I learned about the Goddess and I began to see my mother and the values she exemplified as aspects of the Sacred Feminine. Within this new community I felt safe and supported by others who shared my values.

Over the years I honored my mother whenever I could, always sending her yellow roses, her favorite color. During this time of growth I was struggling with a most basic human question. What do I truly believe in my heart? Yes I shared with the Pagan community common values, honoring the earth, the seasons, the concept of the sacred feminine, but on a deeper level I was unsure of the existence the Goddess, Magik, and if life transcends this existence.

It was at my mother’s funeral that she provided me with the answers to these questions. As my family gathered in a church garden to burry her ashes I was overwhelmed with grief, the words of my brother, sister and father seemed far away, I was going to miss her so much. Each of us placed a handful of dirt over the box of her ashes, returning her to Gaia. We each stood in silence lost in our own thoughts.

Through my tears and grief, I noticed movement to my left and a single yellow butterfly glided through the warm spring air and landed on the spot where we had just laid my mom to rest. In that moment, a Wiccan was born, my mother had come to comfort me and say there is real Magik. Since then I have always believed that life transcends this existence, that Magik is real, finding its greatest expression in love.

Mom, as I sit here writing this in tears, you have my gratitude for all you gave me, the unconditional love, your belief in me, the knowledge that I can make a difference in the world and my understanding of the meaning of life. Never will I forget your final words to me, spoken as a yellow butterfly, Love is Magik and Magik is real.

Note: This is a repost I do yearly in her memory!

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