I’ve never been fond of it. The whole idea of regimented repetition has always felt like a special kind of torture for me.
That might be why playing the piano fell out of favour for me. I’d be more inclined to fly at the keys in anger or tickle them playfully than to approach the piano with any measure of discipline.
With this slanted view of practice, it’s no wonder that I couldn’t really wrap my head around the idea of having a spiritual practice.
Really? My soul needs to be told what to do? And how often?
You’ve got to be kidding!
The whole idea of it seemed so disconnected from my idea of spirituality – that it is fueled by intuition and driven by inspiration, both of which get their timetable from some unpredictable Divine place.
Imagine my surprise when I realized that I have a spiritual practice!
It may seem obvious now, but in all this time I’ve been sending butterflies, seeking the Divine through my lens and sharing what is revealed to me, it wasn’t purposely a spiritual thing.
And I definitely didn’t consider it a practice.
Not until now.
I guess practice isn’t always regimented repetition.
Seems like practice can be the soul-full act of doing something you love over and over again. Like sending butterflies. Like letting my intuition guide those butterflies to the people who need them in this moment.
The remarkable thing is that practice, whether you want to call it that or not, makes the benefit of that thing you love available to you all of the time.
If I had practiced at the piano enough, I’d be able to play a song anytime on any piano. It might have only been one song, but it would always be there for me.
Just the fact that I had stuck with it, worked with those keys over and over again, would mean that the song would be readily available to me. Almost automatic. Integrated into my muscle memory and my heart’s beating.
This is what practice means. This is the beauty and richness of doing what you love again and again. You get to experience that bliss – that connection with the Divine – each time you do it, yes.
And that bliss is always there for you – and for those around you.
My precious butterflies? Always there. Always bringing their benefit to me and to you. Always breathing ease and light and comfort and so much more to all who need them.
For me this means not losing my shit when everything seems be going haywire.
It means offering support even when I feel I need it myself.
It means knowing I am never alone, even when you are silent.
Practice gives me access to Butterfly healing even when I am not asking for it.
Before butterflies were my steady practice, I noticed something.
When things were good for me, it was easy to send butterflies. It was easy to share this buoyant feeling with any and all who were feeling heavy.
In fact, it was pretty easy to send them when things were tough, too. When it was hard for me to be supportive to others because I was feeling overwhelmed by my own difficulties, I could send the butterflies in my place and know that they were being helpful. And I would feel just a bit better knowing that I had helped someone. I didn’t always remember to do this right away, but eventually I would find the butterflies again and send them. And they would help me.
But there were long stretches where things were not really bad and not really good when I might forget about the butterflies altogether. There didn’t seem to be anything to celebrate and there wasn’t really anything to fret about, so why would I need to take them out?
In those times life could get flat, watered down, lacking in colour or overfull with busy.
Of course the butterflies could have helped! But they were hard to remember until things got worse. Or they got better.
The difference today is that I feel those butterflies all of the time. Life rarely feels lacking, never feels overfull, there is almost always something to celebrate even when my heart has broken open, yet again, for someone who has suffered.
The butterflies are always there for me – and for you – in every day, in every experience, in every joyful or sorrowful moment. Always a comfort, always bringing ease, always floating on the winds of the Divine.
I can thank practice for that.
If you are like me – resistant to all things dictated, reluctant to give in to a steady repetition of anything – I just want you to know it can work. I think it needs to be something you love, something that adds to your life and the lives of others. Something that makes your heart sing over and over again.
Don’t think of it as practice right away, if that helps.
Just do what you love.
Then do it again.
We, together, can open hearts and release the Divine and change the world. All through our own spiritual practice.
Do you have a spiritual practice? Do you want to join me in mine? Rx for Rx is all about using my Butterfly Way – and real astrological insight – to thrive through Mercury retrograde.