Taking Steps

Yesterday, I watched the first dragonfly of the season jet over the giant puddle in the parking lot. The buzzy transformer was bright blue, like the morning sky. In many cultures around the world, the dragonfly symbolizes change, transformation and growth. We are now also in the heart of Spring, and the world around us has already practically blossomed, shedding its wintry gloom.


Photo by Sheray Lloyd on Unsplash

All morning, before my walk, I was dealing with racing thoughts, trying to breathe through them, and dropping into my heart instead. I drop into my heart and the negative thoughts shed like pollen all around me. The essence lingers there, it’s difficult to escape. They are fearful thoughts full of uncertainty and despair. I dive into my heart loving them for what they are, one moment at a time.

The dragonfly today reminded me that even though it seems like the journey is steep and sometimes I forget the steps, I know that this is where I’m supposed to be. I don’t have to judge myself so much, because I know that I am trying my best now.

Controlling thoughts is almost like trying to control people. It doesn’t work. I cannot manipulate my mind into thinking up different stories, and so I let it ramble on. I leave the chatter there but turn down the volume. I understand that it is just a podcast of my insecurities playing on repeat and remind myself that the point isn’t about coming up with solutions.

I breathe deeper into my heart, knowing that my fears are slowing flaking off and Summer will be here before we know it. I look forward to seeing more dragonflies doing their work, glistening in the sun – waiting for us to notice how far we’ve come.

You Are Not Alone

You are not alone. Some days, I feel like nobody understands me, the loneliness overwhelms me. My reaction to these feelings is usually to disconnect even further and just dwell in the hopelessness. I try to isolate myself and ignore messages from friends. I impose a social media break also, because I’m exhausted from comparing myself to others. I feel like I might also be doing that subconsciously, because I want other people to wonder why I’m not online. This all sounds extremely childish.

I suppose this is one of those inner-child outbursts. There is so much control that the inner-child has over me, and it is hard to stop catering to those impulses. I judge myself that at my age I should not be acting out these patterns anymore. I have to keep stepping back and trying to see the bigger picture of the situation. I have to keep becoming aware that the loneliness I am feeling is caused by me abandoning myself.

Yesterday, the heaviness set in again. I had a choice to sulk in it, or to let it go. Sometimes, it just overtakes me, and I don’t even get a chance to make the choice. Yesterday, I surrendered to the body instead of what the mind was asking for. I left my office and lay down on the stone bench in front of the building. Its warmth hugged my body, and after a few moments, I started feeling relaxed. The sun and the wind kept me distracted just enough to prevent me from falling asleep completely.

I suddenly felt a loving presence hovering over me. I opened my eyes, and the tree to my right glistened with compassion. We connected, and I felt myself being held. I was grateful. I felt reset, energized and was able to finish off the work day smoothly. At least for now – the inner-child seemed pacified.