Day Eight Wild Musings with Renee Magnusson
What do you want more/less of?
What can you let go of?
I want more dragonfly moments but even to write that feels greedy. What I’ve had is magical. I’ve decided to call them that now—dragonfly moments—because of the magical sound to it. And because of the dragonfly my friend Autumne sent recently (two days after she died) to say thank you and to let me know she was okay. I’ve made myself vulnerable several times telling people about them and I know not everyone gets it. I try to listen to my gut as to who might be receptive and I question why would I need/ why do I want to tell them? I know it’s such an honour that it so often happens to me after someone has died. I am acutely aware that many people may crave that connection (and perhaps ‘deserve’ it more ie they’re much closer to the person who died) yet never receive it so I don’t want to isolate or hurt anyone by recounting my experiences. Often it draws out a conversation, almost an admission, that others have had similar experiences. So it becomes validating for us both.
One of my poems for my poetry group this month was called ‘Notice’ and was about this dragonfly moment. I emailed it to our group on Tuesday. Yesterday morning one of our members, Mary, emailed me back saying that one of her cousins had died in Ireland a couple of days ago and that Mary appreciated the poem, that it helped her adding ‘no dragonflies (yet)’. I replied suggesting she be on the lookout for ‘things’…feathers, butterflies, dragonflies and I recounted my experience with one friend who sent a hawk complete with prey in its talons. It smacked up against my living room window and I raced to the door to see that it was okay. It was. Then it flew up onto the birdbath, fluffy white prey still in its talons, gathered itself and flew a few feet away to the tangle of lilac branches and began to devour the prey. I felt that familiar twinge in the pit of my stomach and I knew. ‘Lynn’. This was my friend Lynn all over. Dramatic and in my face. I smiled. It was so her. Lynn was actually my dear friend Bethe’s mom but Lynn was one of my biggest fans re writing and we had a good relationship over time. I messaged Bethe and told her that I thought her mom had just sent me a hawk. Bethe immediately messaged back. “Yep. That sounds like her!” As I was messaging with Bethe, the hawk left. I knew this because it smacked into my window again (again totally fine, no recovery time needed this time) before flying away. I had to laugh: Lynn always bigger than life.
Anyway, I didn’t tell Mary all that in my email (I get so excited recounting these visits that I got carried away. Sorry!) but just suggested that she may get a nudge from a different creature. Yesterday evening I got another email from her which said that she thought my poem had been her dragonfly as she had carried it around with her all day as it had actually been her cousin’s funeral yesterday. Mary said my poem couldn’t have come on a better day and couldn’t have been more significant. I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate in sending it.
Today I had a delicious take out lunch at a picnic table in the Marina with my lovely friend, Lisa. (I realise I want more walks by water and meet ups with friends outside) We hadn’t seen each other since last year so had lots to catch up on. Lisa is a sweetheart who totally takes me as I am. One time we were going to lunch but a counselling session the day before suddenly seemed to hit me hard and when she came to get in my car I was heaving with sobs. But no matter, we had lunch together and both of us ended up crying over missing our moms. (I want more in town friends who let me be me and who get me) Anyway, after lunch Lisa and I sat on a bench facing Lake Superior, a soft breeze blowing our hair, and I told her about Autumne. I was setting the scene with the dragonfly for her:
“Dad was sitting beside me.” I pointed to my right.
“And Sandy was sitting across the table.” I flapped my hand in front of me.
“I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach to notice what was about to happen. And out of the corner of my eye I could see a small dragonfly hovering over there.” I pointed to ‘over there’ and as I did, a beautiful big dragonfly flew in exactly the space I was pointing to and hovered. We both laughed. Then it flew away as I continued with my story. I remembered that others had mentioned Autumne’s terrific sense of humour. I really didn’t know Autumne that well but I call her my friend (and she called me her friend too) because we just had a connection. I have no idea who was messing with Lisa and I today but it was so funny. And I realised that my dragonfly moments could also refer to laughter. I need oh so much more laughter in my world. When I got home after our lovely visit, that moment lingered with me, making me smile. And I still laugh, even writing this.
Yes, much more laughter.
Whoa! As I was just finishing this up, my computer crashed. Okay, I’ll have much less of that! Even if I didn’t lose anything, that does not classify as funny. Just putting that out there!
Day 237 #365daysofsybwriting #365daysofhaiku
Fine china, silver
she brings to the picnic
her friendship priceless
*my list is so much longer of wanting more and wanting less but this is where my writings took me today so I take that as the main musing.
Welcome! I'm Sue Blott: a writer of all things, a poet at heart, mom, wife, daughter, step-mom, grandma, tea drinker, tai chi-er, mystic, artist, dreamer...and now a blogger! This is my world.