Dragonflies

Have you ever experienced a moment that was so unique that it made you ponder over and over again, “What was the meaning in that?” Has a moment like that ever given you hope when you were feeling hopeless, faith when you felt like there was nothing to believe in, encouragement when you felt as if nothing could lift you out of the low place you were in? Sometimes everything that happens after that moment aligns, and the meaning is crystal clear. What do we do if we never receive a revelation of the meaning in moments like these, yet the memory returns every so often igniting the urge to continue seeking for meaning in it?

A little over a year ago I was coming home from a long, hard day at work. I was exhausted. When I parked, I sat in my car to decompress and muster up enough energy to walk to my front door. I made it a just a few feet from my car when I noticed a swarm of dragonflies circling above my head. Now, on any other day my overactive imagination would tell me that bug is beautiful but aggressive…GET OUT OF THERE, but in this moment, I was in awe. The dragonflies stayed in formation. Not one of them moved toward me. I stood there, workbag hanging from my shoulder and groceries in my hands staring up at this display as they continued to fly overhead. In those few moments while I watched nature perform, the world for me stopped. My thoughts weren’t racing, I wasn’t anxious or afraid, I didn’t feel lonely or exhausted. I felt amazement and complete peace. This had to mean something, right?

I searched the internet for the spiritual and cultural meanings of dragonflies. I came across such things as ‘transformation’, ‘adaptability’, ‘awareness’ and ‘perspective’. I thought about the things that were happening in my life and how the sighting of dragonflies could connect. No matter how I tried to make a meaning fit, what stood out to me was how I felt watching the dragonflies.

Around that time, I was often sad. I was questioning my self-worth, still healing from a marriage I should have never entered. I was mentally, emotionally and spiritually wounded. One of my most important relationships was very contentious and overall, I just didn’t feel like anyone loved me. When those dragonflies circled my head, it felt as if nothing else mattered. I was simply watching them do what they do and appreciating it. As I continued walking toward my front door, I felt like my focus was shifted to something beautiful. My constant mental narrative was quiet and everything else in my life was not the center of attention for once. Something else had filled my awareness.

Those dragonflies come to mind often. I find myself stopping whatever I am doing and visualizing them circling above. The sky slightly blue, the clouds white and fluffy. The memory makes me smile, brings me joy and I still feel the same peace I felt that day. I am relaxed, I feel calm, and nothing I would typically stress about is in my focus. Yet, I still can’t make a meaning land. Maybe that is just it. There’s something about the memory coming back again and again. Perhaps it doesn’t need a meaning. I don’t have to determine if it was supernatural or if there was some hidden truth that needs to be revealed. It is possible that the memory returns so that I can ask myself what truth did the moment leave me with?

Here is where I land: That moment with the dragonflies gave me the one thing that I strive so hard to protect every single day and, that is my peace. If that moment brought me real peace, then proving why it happened no longer holds value. It left an emotional imprint that reminds me of the feeling of connection I received during a time in my life when I felt as if I was carrying every burden all alone. The dragonflies didn’t “fix” anything for me, however the memory of the them reassures me that though there will be moments of stress, anxiety and worry, to be intentional about shifting my focus from all of the pain that a season of loneliness can bring to the beauty, wonder and connection that still exist around me. The feeling of peace is the message! Moving from constantly scanning my war wounds just long enough to appreciate the experience of being alive. It helps cut through the worry, gives my nervous system a break and provides me a space not to need to find a meaning in something but be open to receive what is happening for me in the moment.

In seasons when we feel overwhelmed, unloved and wounded, there is still a part of us that holds the capacity to experience joy, wonder and connection. Our sadness may have overshadowed it but it did not take it away. It still remains, beneath the pain, waiting for the opportunity reach the surface.

"Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know." Thich Nhat Hanh

I would love to hear from you. Please leave a thought, comment or share your own experience. Remember to be kind and respectful. This is a safe space!