🐉 The Day the Dragon Landed (Deja Vu)
There’s something about dragonflies.
They’re not really dragons, but since I believe dragons were real it’s easy to these ancient winged wonders as such as they skim across the pond like tiny, iridescent gliders.
It was a morning like any other at the pond — which means I slept poorly the night before and I felt like hell and came to sit by the water’s edge to try and find my peace.
What I noticed first was there were way more dragons in the air than usual. A lot more. Half a dozen Orange flame skimmers, shining like sparks over the water, and blue dashers zipping around with impossible grace.
One of the blue winged visitors kept coming very close to my face. Unusually close as if to whisper a secret if I spoke her language of the wind upon her wings.
I was reminded of a day when my youngest was a little one ad we were on campus near a fountain with koi and dragon flies. Martha stuck her finger out and held her hand very still for a very little one. Her face lit with that pure, childlike certainty.
I, in my infinite motherly wisdom, told her,
“No, that won’t happen. The dragonfly won’t land on your finger.”
And of course in that moment as the breath left my lips … one dragon fly landed softly on her finger. She stayed completely still as she looked at the wonder and then looked at me. It was in that moment, I knew she was magical.
As that blue dasher hovered near my face, that memory was fresh in my mind.
And I put my finger out, just like Martha did, with a knowing, quite certain actually, that the dragon would land on my hand. I even turned on the video of my Pixel phone.
Within seconds … the little light weight landed on the very tip of my finger. It flew off again quickly, because there was so much air traffic this morning. But it came back and landed again.
I know the world doesn’t feel very magical right now.
We’re watching the slow erosion of democracy, the gnawing away of rights we thought were untouchable, the news telling us each day that things are falling apart faster than we can patch them back together.
We are tired. We are scared. We are grieving.
So what does it matter that a dragonfly landed on my finger?
Nothing of course. But sometimes even against the odds we can still show up and reach out our hand.
Maybe the small, shimmering signs of connection and grace are the threads that will keep us going, even when the world seems dark.
Hold out your hand, help those that you can when you are able.
Lift one another. Leave no one behind.
It may feel like we are fighting impossible odds … but the world can surprise you.
Some days we just need a sign. 🪶🐉✨
p.s. My Malcom in the middle son knew I was having a rough morning with a body that often does not play nice, which sadly he knows first hand how hard that is too. Went to the pond after I told him the dragon story today and sent me THIS VIDEO. Because he knew it would make me smile. Sometimes we can’t fix what’s broken … but each moment we can soften and smile, we gain strength to keep on, keeping on.
