I awoke to a flash of brilliant light in my inner vision and a palpable sensation of breakthrough. After over a year of intense hardship beyond what I believed tolerable, a delicate, sweet, light beingness surfaced. Authentic joy accompanied a soft landing onto a new, supportive and buoyant platform of service.

That afternoon on my Hudson River walk, I came upon dozens of migrating monarch butterflies covering a goldenrod bush. I watched them feeding on blossoms and lifting up to alight on other branches. Or clinging to flowers from every angle, proboscis intent, yet harmoniously sharing nectar with bees. Their speckled black and white bodies gave way to orange and black stained-glass-like wings with dotted trimmings. I’d rarely witnessed anything so visually stunning.

As I paused to enter their world by the river’s edge, a photographer joined me with her camera and the information that they were here yesterday; I don’t know how long they’ll stay. She leaned in closer and closer, snapping shots of wings opening and closing and opening again. The butterflies, focused on feeding, either found the photo shoot irrelevant or granted her the gift of tolerance.

Further down the path, more monarchs gathered on bushes and nearby cattails. That’s when I awoke to the connection moment. Liberated. Delicate, sweet, light.

Monarchs endure prolonged metamorphoses, molting their skin five times before the pupa stage. Only “fourth generation” monarchs migrate the over 2,500 miles to Mexico to hibernate in oyamel fir trees—the very same trees that their parents roosted in before they were born. Glider pilots report seeing high-flying monarchs at 11,000 feet, and flight speeds have been measured at up to 12 mph, although it’s believed they can fly faster for short periods of time.

I left the park filled with gratitude for creatures of beauty that could endure such transformation and travel to return home. As I watch life around me, I notice groups of us gathering to travel together now, tending each other with more grace and care. The gift of migration, of air-bound liberty.