This time of year is proving to be one of heightened emotional stress and upheaval, as I navigate the highs and lows of sending my children to school. My eldest daughter has almost completed her first year at primary school, and my youngest daughter her first year at preschool. Both are very happy in their institutions, they are surrounded by friends and familiar faces, and I am happy with their development. But I am also exhausted by the monotony of the routine.
Every day for five days we get up, argue about lunches and school uniform, what to have for breakfast, and whether my girls will actually go to bed when I tell them to at night. Then we walk to school. Presently my toddler is at preschool for two and a half days in the week, and the rest of the time we are together constantly. She is very demanding, and I am also attempting to potty train her, which is not going very well at all. My husband is still working ridiculously long hours in his all-consuming day job, so I feel very much like a lone parent most of the time. And then I find myself consumed with the emotional stress from my fellow mum friends and their individual journeys with their children.
As if that stress were not traumatic enough, I am still frantically working away at my business, writing new novels, writing short stories, writing blog posts and articles that I can either pitch to publications, or publish online as appropriate. I am planning new projects, reaching out to new people, and basically expanding what I do in an attempt to earn some regular money that I can save for family holidays and a new car (or campervan). While I am spending so much time working on my computer, my house is falling into neglect, the dust grows thicker, toy mountain threatens to topple, and I desperately need to clean my bathroom. When will it all get done?
I don’t know. And all of these worries, thoughts, plans and challenges were circling in my mind as I walked to school with my toddler to collect her big sister yesterday. The weather was bleak. The sky was grey and heavy, threatening more rain. My energy felt clogged and sluggish. I had neglected myself, as well as my house. Suddenly, a blue blur flew past my face. I followed the creature as it settled on a large wet leaf on the plants at the side of the pavement. It was a beautiful, blue dragonfly. It remained still on the leaf as I approached, and it waited while I took a photo. It spoke to me.
“Do not beat yourself up,” said Dragonfly, “Appreciate your current experiences. Accept them, and move on. Everything is as it should be.”
Later I Googled the shamanic meaning of dragonfly, and this is what I found: The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world, symbolizes change, and change in the perception of self realisation; and the kind of change that has its source in emotional and mental maturity and the understanding of the deeper meaning of life.
Enough said! Thank you, wise Dragonfly.
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