The Cost of a New Life

I’ve had a theme unfolding this past week, in the form of a common thread that ran through my thoughts, higher awareness, conversations and memes. The theme centers around a new life, and what the cost of one is.

The Cost of a New Life

How Much Does It Cost?

As this year winds down, I’ve had opportunity to take four of my five grandchildren shopping for their birthdays. Number five is in December. This annual tradition allows me to spend one on one time with each child. We have a meal together and then I hand over a specific amount of money, as a birthday gift.

The kids then decide whether they want to save the cash for a bigger purchase, or spend it at a favorite store. The money belongs to them, once I give it, and the choice is theirs on what they do with it.

As the children age, I notice a shift in their response to having cash. When they are very young, they quickly spend the birthday money on the latest hobby or passion. As they grow older, they begin to make more calculated decisions about how they will spend their gift cash. Older still, and I hear them ask about cost. And a bit beyond that, they weigh the cost of the item against the perceived joy or pleasure they will receive. At some point the question, “How much does it cost?” refers to much more than just the price of the desired object.

I notice these changes in my grandchildren with a mixture of fascination, understanding and sadness. They grow up so fast.

The Cost of a New Life

The Cost of a New Life

I had a Yaya/Grandchild birthday shopping trip last night. And I watched and listened as my granddaughter asked about cost and muttered several times, “It’s not worth it” as she put an item back on the shelf. She ultimately made wise purchases, spending about half of what I gave her and saving the rest. This was the first time, at age ten, that she didn’t spend all of her money.

Thinking about the cost of many things this morning, including the price paid for growing up, I noticed the above meme on Instagram.

“Your new life will cost you your old life.”

Lindsay Joy

Those words resonated with me and aligned with my recent reflections.

What does a new life, a fresh way of living, a ‘do over’ cost? What do I exchange, pay or give, to obtain it?

The price, the sacrifice, the cost…is the old life.

The Cost of a New Life

The Cost of Becoming a Butterfly

I immediately thought of the transformation of caterpillar to butterfly. The two are so different in physical appearance that one could think they were different species. The chubby squishy caterpillar with all the legs and the voracious appetite becomes the graceful, beautiful butterfly that flutters into the air on delicate wings.

The cost of becoming a butterfly, is the caterpillar. One ceases to exists as the other emerges. The caterpillar offers its energy and the willingness to change. The butterfly releases the cocoon of the past and doesn’t look back.

My external form has not transformed as radically, however I’ve transformed several times during my life. Most recently, I desired to change my health, and embrace a new lifestyle. The cost of that change? My old way of eating, my former relationship with food, and my beliefs about what causes disorders and disease.

Like my grandchildren on their birthday shopping excursions, I weighed the cost of that new life against the perceived returns and made choices that supported my decisions.

Was the cost, and the price I paid, worth it?

Oh yes! Like the butterfly emerging from its cocoon, I slipped off old habits and left them behind. And like the butterfly, there was struggle involved to break through the layers and layers I had spun around myself. The struggle for the butterfly and for me makes the experience real, and creates the strength to fly, to live, as a new creature.

There are many times during a lifetime that require such sacrifices. Starting afresh, becoming new, making another life all require paying the price with the old life…the old way of thinking, believing, speaking and acting. If the cost wasn’t so high, if I didn’t pay such a drastic price, it would be too easy to slide back into the old way of being.

And if I return to old behaviors, and limiting lifestyles, I know…I did not pay with the old life. I gave less than all.

Change isn’t easy. Transformation is scary. The process feels like death, and in many ways it is.

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”

Proverb

It is not over. Beyond change….is new life.

The Cost of a New Life

C is for Cindy…and for Creative

After I shared the Vintage Story a couple of nights ago, featuring the crewel embroidery butterfly and the bean art rooster, I felt inspired by these creative family members to create something new. One of my favorite ways to play and create at the same time is to put together a vignette. Tonight I did just that, creating a fresh vignette in the vintage suitcase in my bedroom.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

There were two items that I knew I wanted to include in this vignette: the Butterfly, embroidered by Leta Moore in 1985, and an old book fashioned into the letter C. The transformed Reader’s Digest Condensed Book, from 1983, was a gift recently from my friends, Jim and Kathy. It’s been displayed in my studio. I was excited to include it tonight in this grouping.

Here is a photographic step by step detailing the creation of this vignette.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

An empty suitcase means a blank canvas to create upon. This battered piece of luggage, inexpensive when it was new, is 80 – 100 years old. Oh, the stories it could tell. I use it now to create fresh artistic stories.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

A beautiful old silk pillowcase, with butterfly appliqués, provides a foundational piece for the vignette. It works for two reasons: it continues the butterfly theme and the blues connect the my letter C.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

The butterfly art piece rests in one corner, while a vintage metal tray in the other corner provides an interesting backdrop and contributes to the orange, green and blue color scheme. The dark red topiary in the white crock adds height and balances the left side of the armoire top.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

I was ready to add the book, fashioned into the letter C. I looked at the spine, curious which books had been condensed in this volume. I laughed when I saw The Suitcases. This clever item rests now next to a suitcase. I looked at the inside cover page and discovered that the book formerly belonged to a couple named Bill & Judy. My next door neighbors happen to be…Bill and Judy! This letter C was definitely meant for me.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

The C and a heavy white ceramic bowl join the topiary, completing the section outside the suitcase. I use the “rule of three” often when creating vignettes or displays, grouping three items together.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

Back to the suitcase interior, I wanted another white ceramic piece, to balance the pieces on the armoire top. I used a simple white pitcher, adding light yellow and orange picks with rusty stars. I achieved balance, and the pick colors work well with the other items.

Finally, I added a cream colored three wick candle. It’s important to me that my vignettes include a light source, and candles are my favorite way to bring the light.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

I am happy with this new vignette. This is a totally unique arrangement of items, with the butterfly art, the metal tray, the topiary and the letter C being used in this artistic way for the first time. This is fun for me, creative playing at its finest. I’ll enjoy this vignette until the season changes and it’s time for fall décor.

I’ve glanced at the new vignette repetitively tonight, warmed by the sight, delighted with the way it looks. The letter C reminds me of Cindy, of course, and it also makes me think of Creative. I am both.

C is for Cindy and for Creative

Vibrant Joy

As I sat this evening, sipping hot tea, I considered what to write about. I have projects and stories in the unfolding process. I am not ready to post about those. Possibilities came to mind, and as I did an inward check about each one, I glanced down into my cup of tea…and there I found my inspiration.

The cup I most frequently use for hot tea was a gift to me from my daughter Adriel. The glass mug has three butterflies etched on its sides. As I stared into the depths of my tea, the image of a butterfly appeared on the surface, shimmering amid ripples of reflected light.

I was enchanted. This is the second time I’ve seen a butterfly “floating” in my tea. The first time it happened, I was in the garden and the sun shining through the glass cast a shadow. Tonight I am snuggled beneath a soft blanket, with my cat Angel stretched out on my lap. It is very cold outside, and quite dark. The light from the overhead fixture is creating this dancing image and the accompanying sparkles of light.

Smiling over the simple beauty captured within my cup of rose hips tea, the word that rose within was Joy. After allowing myself several minutes to experience that joy, I checked inward for confirmation that this was my topic for tonight’s blog post. My smile broadened. It was.

Always one for going deeper into the moment, I checked the symbolism for butterflies. I know the winged beauties represent transformation and change. Was there a connection between the butterfly and joy?

Looking up butterfly symbolism, I was delighted to find that there is. I found that butterflies are considered magical. They represent spiritual rebirth and transformation, as I knew, and creativity, endless potential, vibrant joy, and the ability to experience the wonder of life. Butterflies also signify the presence of the Divine.

Another site mentioned that the Celtic people consider the butterfly a symbol of prosperity, honor, joy, and good fortune. To the Celts, they represent the soul. As one with very strong Celtic roots, this resonated deeply with me.

The information that I looked up confirmed what I “heard” in my mind as I stared at the butterfly shimmering in my tea…Joy. Vibrant joy, indeed.

And what about the kind of herbal tea I was drinking? Was there anything symbolic about the rose hips tea that was cradling my butterfly of joy? Roses typically represent love and relationships. However, I felt inspired to look up rose hips in my Life Changing Foods book, by Anthony William. Rose hips contain the most bioavailable form of vitamin C in existence. The vitamin C in rose hips is more anti-inflammatory than from any other source. It helps to boost the immune system and fights all types of infections. This is good! I have been drinking rose hips tea for about ten days now, enjoying a cup every afternoon or evening.

However, it was the section in the chapter on rose hips, under the header Spiritual Lesson, that touched my heart, and made my scalp and face tingle, Spirit’s signal to me that I am on the right track. Anthony writes,

“The fleeting beauty of roses gets a lot of attention. What about when the petals drop away? It isn’t cause for melancholy, or reflection on how we’re at the mercy of time- it’s cause for celebration. That big, showy fragrant blossom was just the invitation; the party really gets started once the rose fades and the flower’s fruit, the rose hip, begins to ripen. The same is true of people. Getting older isn’t a reason to mourn – our younger years are just the beginning. As we age and our experience grows, we gain our real value: fruitful wisdom that we can share and use to nourish each other. What else in your life are you writing off as an end, when really, it’s a beginning?”

I am undone by those words. In ten days I will have a milestone birthday. I will enter a new decade, one I used to consider the doorway to “old age”. Truthfully, I am okay with turning 60. I am healthy, and active, and full of vibrant joy. How amazing, though, and encouraging, to read this paragraph tonight and know that I am entering a fruitful stage of life, where I can share and nourish others.

What beautiful messages this evening, that began with looking into my cup of tea. I laughed as I considered that fortune tellers used to look into an empty cup and read tea leaves. No leaves in my cup, just rose hips tea and a dancing butterfly…and a sweet message that reminded me that this party, my celebration, is just getting started. How vibrantly joyful is that?

Garden Butterfly

On this middle day, of a three day weekend, I enjoyed one of my favorite activities…puttering in my garden. More than a play day, I had several tasks to accomplish today, as I took advantage of an afternoon without rain. And I had one meaningful task awaiting me, as a special butterfly came home. 


Thanks to Greg and his truck, fresh mulch arrived in the garden this morning. I love spreading aromatic cedar chips around the plants. It’s good for the plants, as it helps to hold moisture in and keeps weeds at bay, and it’s good for me. The smell reminds me of fun times with my family at Branson’s Silver Dollar City, where cedar is a signature scent. And I feel very accomplished as I tuck the mulch into place. The garden is looking great! 



Primroses have appeared in the meditation area. I don’t mind sharing the space. 

As I puttered in the garden throughout the day, I savored my time outdoors, and took breaks when I got too warm. I hung the metal letters that spell out my word for 2014, BEYOND. I cleaned up a section on the north side of the yard, in preparation for a new fence going in there. I sorted through and tossed empty plant containers that I won’t resuse. 


And Greg helped me hang a metal butterfly on the side of the workshop. This work of art has been hanging on an outside wall of the Arkansas house for at least 30 years. Greg’s dad had attached it with a nail and I was going to leave it on that house. I am so accustomed to the butterfly being there, that I rarely even notice it any more. 

However, during Joplin’s five year anniversary of the tornado, butterflies appeared all over the city, symbols of hope and transformation. I wanted a butterfly for my garden, to remind me of Joplin’s recovery. And as a reminder that the butterfly was one of my symbols several years ago, representing my own metamorphosis. 


As I mused aloud about my desire to have a butterfly in the garden, Greg recalled the black and yellow one in Arkansas. I realized how perfect it was. The piece is designed for use outdoors, accomplishes the memorial desires that I had, AND reminds me as well of Bob and Leta Moore and my stepdad, Max. 

Because he made that butterfly for my in-laws. My stepfather was a creative man, who found a multitude of outlets for his artistic abilities. He made many of these metal butterflies, painting them different colors, and giving them away. Max passed away almost 11 years. 

I love, absolutely treasure, how momentos from so many family members have found their way into my backyard paradise. Rather than finding that peculiar or morbid, I receive great joy in seeing these keepsakes, and thinking about the people connected to them. 

I’m so glad that this symbol of hope, beauty and change came home to my garden. The Arkansas house is about to close. I became aware of the butterfly’s presence again just in time. That doesn’t surprise me one bit.