I have just arrived at my chap’s cottage ‘in the shire’. It is a blistering hot day; it has been a long drive and this flying visit comes at the end of a long teaching term and a testing few days at the start of the school holiday. I am a tad grumpy, a tad emotional and my eyes are leaking a little so I insist that I keep my sunglasses on.

If you have followed my blog travels, you will know that when life is throwing lemons, I have a tendency to resist any acts of kindness. Forget making lemonade or a gin cocktail, I just become horribly acidic and thick skinned. However, from the moment of my arrival, I am thrown by my chap’s assertiveness – some would call it a bossy approach – but I am so tired that I find myself just going with it.

He ignores my wobbly bottom lip and my refusal to remove my sunglasses. I am told to sit down in the sun at the table and chairs that have miraculously appeared in his garden. A cafetiere of my favourite coffee is placed on the table and I notice that there is a little gift box sitting beside it. ‘My’ chap disappears and returns with a bowl of cold water and tells me to dunk my feet in it. ‘Ridiculous,’ I complain, but I am so taken aback by this original ‘welcome’ that I follow his orders. The water is strangely refreshing but I do not want to give ‘himself’ the satisfaction of admitting this. I also notice a bucket of sunflowers by the back door . ‘They are in water ready for you to take home with you tomorrow, ‘ he says.

I am ‘ordered’ to open the little gift box and inside find a coffee mug painted with dragonflies. Sunflowers and dragonflies, my two favourite things. I melt emotionally, but as my eyes are still leaking, the sunglasses stay on.

I have been on the hunt for a dragonfly for the last few days, feeling the need for a metaphor because life has been a little challenging. I see plenty of butterflies but the universe is just not gifting me the sign that I am looking for. This ceramic version is very welcome – as is the excellent coffee., the cool bowl of water and the new outdoor chairs.

To add some context, himself lives in a cottage on the most beautiful country estate – in ‘the shire’ as aforementioned. When I stay, I find it an adrenalin rush playing Russian roulette with the deaf retired estate gardener who lives in the neighbouring cottage for he likes to fire his air rifle quite randomly from his back door, targeting the ‘thieving squirrels’ that plunder the well-stocked bird table. On this occasion, the gardener is nowhere in sight, but as additional entertainment we have three black sheep who have escaped from an adjacent field and come skipping past our table taking a surreptitious interest in my bunch of thirsty sunflowers. They are shooed away but a few minutes later, one of them makes a solo return performing a little pirouette in front of our table as if to say, ‘how lucky are you to have your trotters cooling in that bowl of refreshing water – try wearing this back jumper and see what happens to your pity party.’

I leave next morning with my battery recharged and feeling very grateful. Driving home I start listening to a podcast about self-compassion and I realise how rubbish I am at this. I also realise how much compassion I receive from those around me and that I could be so much better at returning some of these acts of service.

Although I am reluctant to leave ‘my’ dragonfly mug in the shire, I realise that it will now always remind me of that afternoon and that feeling of being safe and cared for. This gifting has also rekindled my interest in dragonflies and manages to recharge my algorithms to the extent that I soon see the following on instagram: ‘female dragonflies will fake their own death to avoid mating with unwanted males.’ I love female dragonflies even more for this play acting, but after the treatment I have just received in the shire – at the risk of oversharing – I feel I will have no need to play dead.

Missing my new gift, but showing myself some self compassion, I message ‘my’ chap (who I am also missing) and ask if he will send me a photo of the words on the bottom of ‘my’ mug.

I find it reassuring to read the following dragonfly trivia:

‘Dragonflies are an ancient species (less of the ancient, please) whose ancestors flew through the primeval swamps, even predating dinosaurs. They are strong fliers, and can be found several miles away from their watery habitats (thankfully I now have the roof fixed on the cottage but I do live many miles from the shire). They have even sometimes been seeing flying backwards’.

I love the ideas of dragonflies both acting and performing stunts – they could get on well with those dramatic black sheep and I know a bowl of water they might like to hover around. Life needs to be more dragonfly again and I too may be flying back to the shire very soon. There is coffee to be drunk , my sunglasses can come off and I may be able to dish out some compassion. Dragonflies can give as well as take, I just need to use this holiday to practice.