There are moments when the universe taps you gently on the shoulder and says, “Hey… look up.”
Unfortunately, most of us are too busy digesting turkey, dodging family drama like it’s live combat, or pretending that the stuffing didn’t defeat us in round three. But the cosmos, in all its patient splendor, keeps trying.

Here is a case in point. Recently, a telescope in Chile captured a stunning new image of the Butterfly Nebula, a grand, glowing, cosmic creature stretching its wings 2,500 to 3,800 light-years away. Yes. Light-years. Of course.
As in, the nebula is so far away that by the time its light reaches us, your leftovers have already spoiled, been thrown out, and guilt-eaten anyway.

And yet it’s out there. This celestial butterfly rendered in blues, purples, and golds, fluttering across the constellation Scorpius like the universe’s own stained-glass window.

A butterfly. In space. I love it. I feel it. Maybe it’s all the amino acids from thanksgiving.  But there it is. While some of us can barely get through Thanksgiving without Googling “how much pecan pie is too much” or “is it normal for your cherry jubilee and yellow rice mash-up to haunt your dreams.”

But that’s exactly the point.

There are things so beautiful and grand and so utterly beyond our tiny spirals of angst that we owe it to ourselves to pause. To breathe. To remember that the universe is vast and shimmering and spectacular, and we are just small creatures doing our best on a planet full of kitchen timers, emotional potholes, and relatives who bring up the one topic you begged them not to.

When the holiday noise gets too loud. When the turkey sits in your stomach like a personal betrayal. And, we know it does. When you hit the point of “I love you all but please leave my house”,  that’s when you take a deep breath.  A cosmic breath.

The kind that says.

“There is a nebula floating billions of miles away in the form of a butterfly, and somehow I exist here, now, eating leftover pie straight from the fridge. Everything will be okay.”

Because the universe, in its grand and generous way, keeps offering us perspective in the form of glowing wings across the night sky. We just have to accept the invitation.

So here’s to the cosmic butterfly.
Here’s to the awe tucked inside chaos. Here’s to remembering our place which is small, silly, stubborn, and hopeful  in a universe full of wonders.

May we all spread our metaphorical wing preferably after the turkey coma wears off.