If I do not give THIS thought my attention, my emotions, my time than it has no power over me. It shapes no aspect of my life. Shoo! Shoo! Out with you. I do not entertain houseflies in my skull!
Curious creature if you spend much time observing their structure. Flimsy really. Bent body that looks little more than a dry twig. Wings so translucent that you can see clearly through their veil of blues and greens at anything that lies beyond. Alight upon your hand and you’d mistake it’s presence for a dandelion seed, it has so little weight. A good wind should snap it in two.
And yet……. it doesn’t.
The dragonfly in all it’s frailty is one of the greatest fliers of all the Earth. Up, down, backward and forward. It dazzles us as it skims the surface of a lake, only a flicker to our eye.
We are the dragonfly, brilliantly translucent against a river of divine love. We appear to ourselves, at times, so frail and flimsy facing the forces of life’s challenges.
And yet…….we are not.
There is not a spirit that walks the Earth that is frail or broken. Even in-spite of our bent and dried up appearance. What we are can not be disturbed by even the greatest events of our lives, no matter how strong the winds of change.
You are capable of great adaption and changes of direction. You know this. Feel the flutter of your iridescent wings moving steadily in your chest. Your spirit moves in you with all the art of the great flier. It is no mistake you live by the wind moving steadily in and out, in and out of your wing like lungs. Embrace your bits of color and light refracting in the Universe. You were meant to dance, not hide amongst the reeds. Your presence on this Earth is one of the great mysteries of design and beauty.
Just like the dragonfly.
As a child I was quite the tomboy, catching bull frogs in the lake behind my house or craw daddies in the creek. I still listen to frogs on summer nights to determine where they are and to what mate they call. I’m especially fond of finding crawfish in the streams that I hike. Spring has been slow to come to Colorado and the creek is running fast, deep, ice cold and swollen with snow melt. Not very hospitable for a crawfish. Still, I look. Today, I was about to turn away after quite some time standing, when it’s tail caught my eye as it scurried across the creek bed beneath a rock. Life! Spring is here!
I meditate so that I may cultivate the quiet, the patience, the awareness and the love for this moment. Even the long waiting part. Even if there’d been no crustacean. Even with the red wing blackbirds that squawk like old Bolsheviks into my ear from the thicket for my intrusion. May you live a long life my mud-digging friend. You lit up my heart tonight.