Six years ago, a friend who knows me better than I know myself, phoned me to share a dream she had experienced about me. The dream went something like this…

We were walking towards a castle which we both knew well and a there was a dragonfly on my shoulder and it kept flitting from left shoulder to right, catching the sunlight as it flew, beautiful and yet a little sinister at the same time.

There were other symbols in the dream, I’m sure.  It’s a little hazy now, so I should have written it down – perhaps a castle and a lion on that fortress wall – but it was the dragonfly that caught my attention, as dragonflies are want to do.

It’s taken me six years to acknowledge that the dream meant more at the time than I was prepared to admit.  I’ve since read that the lifecycle of a dragonfly can be from 6 weeks to 6 years so perhaps I needn’t be so embarrassed about my slow development!

I did share that dream at the time.  You’ll discover that I share most things with this sister.  My marriage was then starting to fall apart for the first time  – plot spoiler alert,  I’m afraid this is not going to have a Jane Austen ending, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.  I choose to believe, however,  that dragonflies represent more beauty than heartache and I’m determined to make it my focus to see this whenever possible.

Dragonflies are  becoming part of my life (partly because as soon as I shared that dream with my band of brothers, they started to shower me with dragonfly gifts.  I’ve become a symbolic equivalent of a mad cat woman, for I have earrings, china and scarves; I’m aware that this makes me sound quite mystical and ‘new agey’ .  I’m not at all.  The media tells me I’m a ‘midster’ and if I am, I’m a christian midster going through a valley phase, but hoping to climb some mountains again.

So I’ve already learnt that dragonfly flitting has to take place, and I’m learning to acknowledge dragonflies as a whole package – wonder, beauty, and fear as each new flight begins.  I don’t intend to impale dragonflies here for a collection, but I’m hoping that a jar with no lid might offer a place where reflections can settle and gather before the next flight begins. A place to ponder joy and fear.  A jar full of dragonflies.  And if a few jars get smashed along the way, at least the explosion of flitting dragonflies will remind me of their beauty.