Flying With Broken Wings

Hey Everyone 👋🏻

This morning, outside a temple, I noticed something quietly beautiful resting among fallen marigold flowers. The bright orange petals were scattered on the ground after worship, and right in the middle of them sat a butterfly. Its wings were spread wide, soaking in the sunlight. The contrast of brown and white patterns against the vibrant marigolds made the scene look almost painted.

But as I looked closer, I noticed something that changed the way I saw it.

Its left wing was damaged. A noticeable cut had taken away a small portion of its shape. The right wing too had a few minor tears along the edges. It was not the perfectly shaped butterfly we usually see in pictures. It was not symmetrical. It was not flawless.

Yet, it was alive.

Despite the cuts, it was steady. Despite the damage, it had flown there. Despite the imperfections, it was still a butterfly doing what butterflies do — resting, breathing, surviving.

That moment felt like a quiet lesson.

We often think that to move forward in life, we must be perfect. We believe that any damage — emotional, physical, or mental — makes us weaker, slower, less capable. But that butterfly proved otherwise. Its wings were not untouched, but they were still enough. Enough to fly. Enough to reach sunlight. Enough to continue its journey.

Life does not pause because we are wounded. It moves. And we move with it.

The temple surroundings made the scene even more meaningful. Marigolds are offered with devotion, symbolizing purity and faith. And there, among those sacred flowers, sat a creature that looked fragile yet strong. It felt symbolic — like a reminder that even broken things are part of divine design.

Damage does not cancel purpose.

Looking at that butterfly, I realized how similar it is to us. We all carry cuts. Some are visible, some are hidden. Some are small scratches, and some have taken away pieces of us. But we are still here. We still wake up, step out, work, smile, try again. Our wings may not look perfect anymore, but they are still capable of carrying us forward.

Perfection is overrated. Survival is powerful.

The butterfly did not seem ashamed of its torn wings. It did not hide. It did not stop existing because it was no longer flawless. It simply rested in the sun, calm and composed, as if to say, “This is still life.”

Maybe that is the real strength — not having unbroken wings, but continuing to fly with the ones you have.

We spend so much time worrying about what we have lost — opportunities, relationships, time, health — that we forget to notice what remains. The butterfly could have focused on what was missing from its wing. But instead, it used what was left.

And that is enough.

Watching it there, surrounded by bright marigold petals, I felt a strange sense of peace. Beauty does not require perfection. Strength does not require symmetry. Life does not require flawless wings.

Sometimes, the most inspiring stories are not the ones without scars, but the ones that continue despite them.

That butterfly flew away after a few minutes. Not smoothly, not perfectly — but steadily. And that was more than enough.

Thank you♥️ for being here

Your presence means more than you know🤗
Until next time ⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Stay kind 🌸
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Stay curious 🧠
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Stay you 🫵