Broken Pieces

’m in the beginning stages of starting a butterfly collection.

(I’ll admit that I have a hoarding issue and everything seems like the beginning of a collection.)

Like I said, I’m in the beginning stages of starting a butterfly collection. I have a set of three matching green, yellow, and orange ceramic butterflies from Panama. I have another set of glass and mosaic orange butterflies from Puerta Vallarta. I just bought two wooden butterflies from Cuba.

They are all my favorite for different reasons. The mosaic butterflies are the most visually appealing butterflies. I love looking at them. I love owning them. I love them.

As I was hanging the wooden butterflies on the wall, one of the mosaic butterflies fell from the wall and shattered on the ground.

My favorite butterfly is now in multiple pieces, but it is not irreparable. I still have 4 big, intact chunks and many shattered pieces. I can see where I need to add the super glue for me to put my butterfly back together again.  Sometimes life is like that. We fall. We hit the the ground hard. We shatter. It’s ugly.
We are not irreparable. It may take a little glue. It may take some time. You may have to throw some pieces away. You will be able to put yourself back together. Or, as Dr. Maya Angelou would say, “And, still, I rise.”

I don’t love my damaged butterfly any less. Yes, it is deformed and imperfect now. Honestly, it was imperfect when I bought it. I still value it the same.

When you really value something (or someone) it doesn’t matter what it goes through.

You try to revive it and save it before you have to part with it. Even if as a hoarder, I keep old and broken things just to keep things around. However, I will put special effort into the things (or people) I value.

Now flip it around. You may feel as if people devalue you because you don’t meet the high expectations you created in your head. Or, maybe you did let people down or made serious mistakes. You are still valued. Flaws and all.

The consistency of the item matters. Now that I see my beautiful butterfly in its glorious broken state I’m beginning to believe that my butterfly wasn’t made by children in an illegal sweatshop. I don’t think that it would have broken in clean lines if it was as cheap as the other butterflies on my wall.

I don’t have much to say here, but the integrity of things (and people) matter. It especially matters when life gets tough and things shatter.

When something breaks, you learn to do better. The first thing I did when got over the shock that I have a broken butterfly on the ground was remove the other butterflies from the wall. I kind of knew that I didn’t initially pick the most secure method of hanging the butterflies.

Appreciate the wake-up calls. They give you a chance to make better choices.

Life is always about perspective. I could get upset that I have a broken butterfly. But I’m not. I’m relieved that I can restore it. I’m happy that we unexpectedly had to keep the dog at the vet’s office earlier today. If not, there was a good chance the butterfly would have fallen on my dog. She is literally laying in the exact spot the butterfly fell on.

Life happens. Unexpected bad things happen. Things don’t go our way. All things being equal, we can either dwell on setbacks or choose to move on.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes: God takes the broken pieces of life and turns it into a beautiful mosaic.


Don’t forget, When we make love, we make life.


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