"Even the butterfly doesn't fly through the storm. It knows that some battles aren't won with wingbeats— but with patience. When the rain falls, it seeks refuge, not out of weakness, but out of wisdom. For it understands that what makes it fly could also break if it takes flight too soon. And so it rests—still, inconspicuous, almost invisible— while the sky rages. Yet in its heart beats the belief that no storm can last forever. When the last thunder fades and the sun breaks through the clouds, it opens its wings again. And they glitter—even more beautifully, even more powerfully, with traces of the rain that haven't destroyed it, but shaped it. So rest, when your sky is dark. Not every standstill is giving up— sometimes it's just your soul's way of protecting its wings until it's ready to fly again."🦋
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