Emergence #emergence #growth #gratitude

I contemplate emergence while watching dragonflies come into form...
Rocks emerging out of Merrymeeting Lake, New Durham, NH

We spent the past week going back and forth to the lake. It was supposed to be a quiet week, but life has a way of pulling us into its force without giving us directions. We were sort-of prepared for chaos. We knew my daughter would have morning sessions for her summer program to attend. Then there was work. She trying to fill in for the weeks she would be missing during her three weeks residence, plus my scattered yoga classes, and my husband’s half-day he didn’t want to give up.

On Wednesday, the day when no one had anything to do beyond noontime, the sky decided to dance rain while the fridge went on vacation. It could have been worse. We were home anyway, as who wants to water ski in a rainstorm?

As I shoveled bags of frozen food into coolers I began to think about fortune. How lucky we were to be home to save this food that would surely perish in a day or two if it had warmed, with our fridge, to room temperature in summer. The fact that we had so much food to save only reinforced our fortune.

The modern convenience whose generator had run its course also brought to mind dependence. I do not can. I freeze. My tiny garden has yet to yield the bulk of its bounty for the season. While I was digging through the thawing treasures in the freezer box, I found three bones filled with peanut butter banana ice cream. Zelda, realizing she had hit the treats jackpot decided she’d better save one for later. Within seconds, half my crop of ready-to-be-picked lettuce and two budding pepper plants disappeared into the dirt along with a bone.

Yet, how fortunate I was to have peppers and lettuce from the grocery store. Grown by someone else. How dependent I was. How interdependent we all are…

It can be an uncomfortable state to be in, this state of interdependence, but I’m not sure it has to be. The next morning I found myself in bed thinking about how the big can appear small and the small big, depending upon perspective. The Earth, from the scale of the universe, a mere dot orbiting a tiny sun that will eventually burn out, holding our all of our breath in check. And how very few of us will ever emerge out of its atmosphere to take in the vast expanse beyond our Earthly existence.

Back at the lake, I watched dragonflies emerge from their nymph stage of life. Ugly prehistoric brown bugs emerging into exquisite winged beings. Tiny dragons. Magic in corporeal form. And here I was, sitting at the edge of the womb of the lake, watching beauty being birthed. Watching, without seeing, the force of life propelling the push into existence.

A dragonfly on the verge of beauty

What the vines said

I went outside this morning to ask the vines about Life…

Spiraling into a chalice

I asked, “Why do you spiral energy only to hold on tight to solid form?”

The struggle to hold “solid” form

“But also spiral untethered, as though reaching only for the light? Which do you prefer? How do you choose where you send your energy?”

Spiraling free

The vine replied, “For the same reason you do. To grow.”

“But what of this tangle back to self, after the reach for light?” I asked, looking at spiral that became a knot.”

The tangle back on self

“Because the blind search can be binding,” replied the bee gathering pollen from the sunflower.

A divine alchemist

So I turned to the bee, “Tell me about Life.”

“Life is alchemy,” the bee replied as it gathered pollen in its arms and sipped nectar from the heart of the flower. “Life is the continual process of creation.”

“And destruction,” offered the dragonfly who would not stay long enough to be captured by the camera. “Inertia causes stagnation and confusion, until the old is broken down to form the new.”

Tipped against Time

“But growth does not abide by time,” offered the grasshopper who looked at the sundial reading false time. “Whatever time is to you.”


“Sometimes it is rest, followed by a jump over an obstacle. Like a rock.”

“Did you say call my name?” asked the rock. “Some think of me as an obstacle. Some may even call me stuck, but even what looks like stasis is really slow movement. Even I am not in the same place where I began.”

An illusion of stasis 





The Dragonfly’s Song


The Dragonfly’s Song

A brief life of beauty

by your time, yet

I drink often from the pool of joy

where I lived in the shallows

a colorless nymph

overlooked by most, feared by a few

for my primitive form

I grew used to density

The murky depths

of transformation

requires stillness

the body in stasis

on the outside only

Emergence appears fragile

leaving the old behind takes time

but for those who can wait

magic unfurls in winged

cathedrals to the sun

and the sky opens in a union

of love for all willing to fly

beyond fear