Thought for today:
"Today I go into hospital again for my fortnightly blood transfusion. I should also find out the results of my recent bone marrow tests to discover if the cancer has returned to the bone marrow as my prevailing blood count has remained critically low since December.
I will not pretend that I have no worry as I await these results, as to be so blase about one's life would suggest that one does not care about its continuation. My terminal illness however, constantly keeps my mind aware of the fragility of life and it is such thoughts of fragility and short-life spans that takes my focus and thoughts today to that of the butterfly.
Throughout my working life, my insignia for the hundreds of groups I ran over twenty five years was that of a butterfly. I have always been fascinated by these creatures who are blessed to flit in and out of children's hands while always maintaining a moment of magic through their metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. And like all earthly existence, their life is but a few seconds in the great galaxy of time; yet though it counts its life span not in months but moments, the butterfly always has time enough to touch the heart of a child as it stirs their imagination.
As a children's author since 199O, who held approximately two thousand story telling assemblies in Yorkshire schools, like the butterfly, I enjoyed flitting into and out of children's lives. I am sure that it was my daily contact with innocent children then which keeps a sense of magic and mischief alive in my aging body now.
I believe that when all the wars are over, a butterfly will be just as beautiful to behold as it appears today. I once imagined that after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki which ended the Second World War, that for many years following those tragic bombings, all life was obliterated, the ground stayed parched and the stone black, no plant life grew, the trees remained leafless and green became a colour of the past. The world stood still and no bird sang: until one morning a butterfly appeared on the branch of a leafless tree as if to signify the return of hope, and to remind all survivors that life still goes on and there was much human reparation to be made if the world was ever to become whole again.
Happiness, like the butterfly, will unfortunately always remain beyond the grasp of those who do not pursue life to the fullness of its wholesome being. We should always remain open to all aspects of changing self and circumstances; reminding ourselves that if nothing ever changed, nature would know no season and there would be no butterflies to chase, no reason.
There is an old Irish-blessing couplet that says, 'May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun and find your shoulder to light on.' So believe in the beauty of self and life and remember that a butterfly at best, is nothing more than a caterpillar at rest. It's never too late to start living; never to late to come out of yourself. One can never grow too old to believe in the magic of butterflies and the innocence of children!" William Forde: March 2nd, 2016.
https://youtu.be/sLcbfF9ypmM