Tag Archives: Love

A Dragonfly Story

I was on the front porch this afternoon doing some work when I happened to look up and notice a dragonfly just outside one of the windows. It made me smile because I have a special place in my heart for dragonflies.

But it didn’t fly away or land. It just kind of hovered outside the window. As I watched it, the hovering seemed rather unnatural and odd. I began to suspect it was caught in a spider web and got up to take a closer look.

Then I noticed the dragonfly begin to spin fast and also noticed a tiny spider a few inches above it spinning its arms like a masterful puppeteer. (Honestly, it reminded me of Voldemort in Harry Potter.) Clearly, this dragonfly was in a deathtrap and in the process of being bound, paralyzed, and eventually having the life sucked out of it by the hungry predator it was now powerless against.

Well, with all due respect to spiders and their fantastic webs, this was not going to happen on my watch! I was not about to stay put and watch a beautiful dragonfly become a lifeless shell of its former, dazzling self. No siree!

Not knowing if it was too late, I grabbed a long object (since the web was higher than I could reach), bolted outside and batted at the web until the dragonfly became detached from the spider and the web.

The binding process had only just begun, and I saw that there weren’t many sticky threads attached to the dragonfly yet. So I picked it up and brought it inside to inspect it. There were bits of sticky web and binding threads caught on its delicate wings and legs, and I began to remove them ever so carefully, knowing not to touch its fragile wings.

The dragonfly stayed with me for about a half hour as I tended to it and gave it all the love I could. Every now and then, it flew away only to drop to the ground because there were still some threads attached that restricted its movement. Eventually, I managed to get the last bits of spider web off, and the dragonfly flew out of sight.

This little creature must not have realized how close it was to danger. Then it got caught in the web that at first sight probably didn’t look so dangerous. It got too close, got stuck, and couldn’t break free. It must have been terrified when it realized how sticky the web was and how powerless it was against it! And then the very hungry and merciless spider sprang into action. At that point, I imagine the weak dragonfly gave up hope that it ever could break free from the situation and probably thought: What’s the useI’ll never be that brisk, shimmering being again. 

But even in your bleakest moment, you never know who’s looking out for you – who will step in and act on your behalf and watch over you as you recover from the trauma and clear the sticky debris from your wings…because even though you are a tiny dragonfly, YOU MATTER.

The point is: Don’t give up. Even when the situation seems hopeless, and all odds seem to be against you, somebody just might be looking out for you, ready to take action to help you get your wings untangled from the web that seemed so impossible to release yourself from. You might even have a guardian angel working behind the scenes, perhaps in response to a loved one’s prayers for divine intercession. I don’t know how these things work, only that the dragonfly wasn’t paying close enough attention and ended up in the web, and I happened to notice at just the right time.

I often wonder if trees experience time the same way humans do. If so, I imagine being rooted in one place for such a long time would feel like eternity! But I suspect time moves more quickly for trees and probably more slowly for dragonflies, whose lifetimes are so brief compared to humans. That half hour in my care (not to mention the time it was caught in the web) might have felt like years to the dragonfly. Perhaps it felt like a very long time for it to recover from its brush with death in the spider web and rid its wings and legs of the sticky debris so it could once again fly right. Perhaps it required patience – the trying, the falling, the humility of it all, and having to give it a little more time before trying again.

I like to think that when it finally did fly off – perhaps back to its dragonfly family – it did so a little wiser as a result of what it had experienced, with greater knowledge of the nature of spider webs, what to look out for, and how to avoid them in the future. Perhaps the dragonfly flew off with a renewed sense of purpose, a better understanding of its strengths and resources, and a realization that there is goodness in the world and that it is loved deeply.

Thank you, my little dragonfly friend, for giving me this parable. I hope you are zipping around again, feeling loved, and sharing your survival story with all your dragonfly friends. And I’ll share it with mine because it is a story of hope, and I know quite a few people who could use a little of that right now.


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The photographs in this blog (except for those attributed to other owners) and in my Flickr photostream are available for purchase as prints or cards through my Etsy shop by selecting a “custom print” in whatever size you prefer and indicating either the name of the print or the blog post and order in which it appears.

© Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography, 2017. SHARING IS CARING, and I appreciate my work being shared with others! Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography (River-Bliss.com). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all text and photos, without express and written permission from this website’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. In other words, I put my heart and soul into my writing and photography and want to be credited for it and have some traffic sent my way. It’s the high vibration thing to do!  🙂

Bathed in Light

A few evenings ago while taking a walk, I was stopped in my tracks by the irresistible sight of the late day sunlight illuminating chartreuse-toned, newborn leaves up in the trees. It was a stop-and-take-a-picture moment, which is my version of stopping and smelling the roses (except for when there are actual roses to smell!).

Sometimes it’s the simplest things that can transport us into awe, joy, and gratitude if we are receptive to them. If we can even notice them in the first place. I am passionate about photographing such “magic moments” and have a library of nearly 10,000 images that is essentially a visual gratitude journal. It helps me to remember. It uplifts me. And it trains me to see the light in this world. Holding that frequency is what I feel called to do. There are others who focus on the darkness. There are some who insist, “If you’re not angry, then you’re not paying attention!” There are those who are committed to finding solutions. There is room in this world for all of us. However, I know my place. I’m here to hold the light. Not in a Pollyanna sense, but in a despite-it-all sense.

I woke up this morning thinking of someone who often disturbs my inner peace. I tend to hold a negative opinion of this person, even though I realize s/he is hurting and has reasons for his/her behavior. Then the image of the sunlit, baby leaves popped into my mind, and I imagined visualizing people who annoy or upset me bathed in the kind of light that illuminated the tender leaves. I noticed how it felt to even think about doing that. My defenses were up. Why, though? What is so threatening about seeing people illuminated in the most flattering way, from an angle that allows us to perceive their goodness, which I believe is inherent in everyone, even if it’s buried deeply – perhaps beneath an overwhelming desire to be loved and accepted?

Hmm… It felt like my ego asserting itself again. (I named her Susie Q, by the way.) Cling to an unflattering view of someone else to…make me feel better about myself? Simplify my world? But the feeling of tightening, closing, and cutting myself off doesn’t feel good. It feels like shrinking and constricting. It doesn’t feel intuitively right.

It feels much better to soften, open, and connect with someone’s higher nature, to bathe him/her in the light of love and compassion. It doesn’t mean I have to do anything differently. I don’t necessarily have to get any closer, interact more, make myself vulnerable, or take on responsibility that isn’t mine. It’s really not about the other person as much as it’s about freeing myself from a narrow, limiting view that prevents me from expanding and evolving (which is what I think I’m ultimately here for).

All I know is that it feels good in every cell of my being when I’m able to shine some love and compassion on the stories Susie Q creates and to see others as beings of light rather than boundaries by which I define myself. And I am grateful for the power of images to awaken me so that, like the sunlit leaves freshly emerged from tight buds, I can open and expand and gather more light.

If you’re not doing so already, I invite you to follow me on Facebook and Instagram!


The photographs in this blog (except for those attributed to other owners) and in my Flickr photostream are available for purchase as prints or cards through my Etsy shop by selecting a “custom print” in whatever size you prefer and indicating either the name of the print or the blog post and order in which it appears.

© Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography, 2017. SHARING IS CARING, and I appreciate my work being shared with others! Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography (River-Bliss.com). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all text and photos, without express and written permission from this website’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. In other words, I put my heart and soul into my writing and photography and want to be credited for it and have some traffic sent my way. It’s the high vibration thing to do!  🙂 

The Glorious Possibilities of Emptiness

Earlier this week, the vascular surgeon said it would be a wild ride, and has it ever been! I spent a couple days this week crying and rebelling against my current realities and have the puffy eyes to prove it. This week has been exhausting. Illuminating. Clarifying. And so much else. But today is a new day, and I have quite a story to share. One I hope you will find inspiring.

My dad underwent emergency bypass surgery two days ago to fix a severe blockage in his leg so he wouldn’t lose his foot. It was no simple procedure, given all his medical issues. I stayed with him in pre-op, and when it was time to leave, I looked in his eyes and saw how frightened he was – of losing his leg or worse. I assured him that he was in good hands and had the easy part because he’d be out the whole time, and as far as he’s concerned, I’d see him in about two minutes, post op. I held his hand, told him I love him, gave him a kiss, and left the hospital with his wedding ring in my possession and my mother’s voice in my head telling me that I am a good daughter and that everything will be alright.

Hearing her voice brought tears to my eyes. Remote mothering, but mothering, nonetheless. Two family members have had “very real” and vivid dreams of her in the past two weeks convincing them that she is still around and watching over us.

Before my dad went to the doctor because his foot pain had become unbearable, my husband, Jack, dreamed that my mom and dad were dancing together, but my dad didn’t seem to realize she was there. He was in black and white and seemed very down, whereas she was in full, vivid color with a big smile on her face, dancing all around. Aware that she had died, Jack exclaimed, “But you’re not supposed to be here!” With a big smile, she replied, “Well, I am! And I always have been!”

That was the first time he had ever dreamed of her or experienced a dream that felt “so real”. The same was true for my daughter, who dreamed my mom came back one more time and told her that she’s been watching over her and is aware that she has a daughter and really wished she could meet her but wasn’t able to.

I haven’t had such a “dream” in a while but have been hearing my mom’s voice in my head quite often. It is the most loving, compassionate voice. Maybe it’s actually my own voice growing stronger, but it sounds like her, and I’m grateful to hear it.

But back to my dad…

He was in the operating room for six hours. And what a journey those six hours were! Understanding that the surgery would be quite complicated, I left the hospital in a bit of a daze. While he was on the operating table, I felt like an orphan. I felt so lonely and drove around longing for a warm hug and a few kind words. Unfortunately, the one person with whom I interacted in my moment of need displayed neither empathy nor kindness and only made me feel worse. But then I parked my car, and when I got out, there was a single white feather on the ground right next to the car door. I associate white feathers with deceased loved ones, so I immediately thought of my mom and felt her love.

I cried a lot over the next six hours. And reflected. Heightened, ultra-real moments, such as when you’re waiting for a loved one to come out of surgery, carry a special power to cut through illusions, break spells, and offer the gift of clarity. I was able to see more clearly what was most important, what was missing, and what needed to change in my life.

I realized that for a long time, in some ways I had only been seeing what I wanted to see, not what was really going on. It was like when I accompanied my parents to my mom’s oncologist appointments, and when we left the doctor’s office, they agreed cheerfully that the news the doctor gave them was hopeful – though I heard something entirely different. And when my dad managed to convince himself the day before his surgery that the vascular surgeon didn’t really intend to give him a bypass the next day even though she stated it clearly and gave him instructions to prepare for it. It’s like when someone tells you s/he loves you, and you want to believe the words rather than the actions, which indicate otherwise.

Hindsight may be 20/20, but when clarity emerges – even if it brings somber revelations – it is always a blessing because at least you know what you have to work with and can move forward, blinders finally removed. Even after my dad’s surgery was successful, I continued to cry for virtually the entire next day because what I realized in those hours of clarity was hard to bear. And I hadn’t gotten enough sleep, which never helps matters. All I could feel was the pain of the great void of loss that felt like it was growing and threatening to consume me. I missed my mom terribly and wished my arms were long enough to pull her back from wherever she is. Even if she really is closer than we realize, it wasn’t close enough.

Where did everybody go?

My mom and grandmother are gone. My son will leave for college in two weeks. My daughter and granddaughter have moved to Georgia. That’s a lot of empty space that used to be filled with activity and face-to-face interaction with loved ones! And this summer, I’ve had to let go of a close friend who became a vibrational mismatch. Sometimes it’s easier to focus on pleasing, helping, and saving someone else than it is to focus on your own stuff, but the truth is that you can’t save anyone but yourself, and the longer and harder you try, the further you end up out of alignment with your higher Self and true desires.

So yesterday was Crying Day – I Miss My Mom Day – from start to finish. But when I went kayaking in the morning, there were white feathers scattered all over the river for as far as I paddled!

This morning, I opened my eyes and was called to the dock by the colors of the sunrise. I sat on the dock listening to the cicadas, crickets, and birds and feeling the cool, morning air on my skin as a single dragonfly zipped around, and the sunrise colors developed. After a day of crying and lashing out against all the empty spaces in my life, I was able to wake up in the morning and “be here now.” Be at peace with what is rather than vehemently oppose it. And that’s how I realize I will need to proceed: One mindful moment at a time. Focus on what I already have, rather than on what is missing.

Sunset 8-9-16-1

There have been too many goodbyes lately, and sometimes it feels overwhelming. But that’s life. People will come and go, often before we are ready to release them. And the spaces they leave behind can feel like vast, haunted caverns of sadness and loneliness. But in what feels like empty space, the Universe has created an opening that holds glorious, unlimited possibilities.

Yes, there are some gaping spaces in my life – and perhaps in yours, as well. But there is also so much love and nourishment in our world if only we can look through the lens of the present moment and its wealth of possibilities rather than try to prolong the past. And embrace our wholeness! When we feel ourselves craving more or wanting something or someone out of our reach, we can take a deep breath and remember that we already have everything we need. Focus on that. The miracle of gratitude.

My dad made it through his surgery. The sun rose again this morning, and the sunrise was quite beautiful. The water lilies floating on the river are irresistible, and the large clusters of Queen Anne’s lace give off a sweet, subtle fragrance. I am married to a man who is the personification of peace and love and who has transformed himself in ways I never imagined possible. My son is about to embark on the next, exciting chapter of his journey, and I can connect with my daughter and granddaughter via video calls. I have wonderful, healthy friends who have stepped forward and filled some of the empty spaces with empathy, caring, and wisdom. Their nourishing presence has helped me to make it through this week.

So I offer this advice for you and for me: Accept the love and blessings that show up in your life. Focus on that. When someone hugs you, for instance, be present. Feel the loving, caring energy that is wrapping itself around you. Melt into it, and connect with that instead of ruminating on who or what is missing or what is causing you sadness. A mindful hug or conversation can transform your mood, your day, and even your life.

And because I’ve done it myself and have witnessed others doing it, I ask us both to consider: How are you pushing away the love that wants to flow to you and then calling yourself lonely? Who is right there dancing with you even though you aren’t even aware of it? How does love want to enter your life? How can you open yourself to it?

After my mom died and I had quit my job teaching kindergarten, my wise son realized I was feeling down and remarked that he thinks I need to find “something precious to care for.” After more goodbyes and empty spaces, I suspect that precious thing might be me. Because for so long, I have been busy caring for others: My children. My family. My young students. My troubled friend.

As I sat on the dock this morning witnessing the sunrise, I realized that in the gaping emptiness, my book is waiting for me – the one I am going to publish once I finish writing it.  A precious thing to care for. A glorious possibility!

A new day. A new opportunity to integrate the lessons of yesterday into cultivating greater wisdom, kindness, and love and bringing our best selves into being. May we forgive ourselves and others for how we have fallen short. In other words, for being human. Each of us is a brilliant work in progress, and the possibilities are endless.

Sunrise 8-12-16-1

The photographs in this blog (except for those attributed to other owners) and in my Flickr photostream are available for purchase as prints or cards through my Etsy shop by selecting a “custom print” in whatever size you prefer and indicating either the name of the print or the blog post and order in which it appears.

© Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography, 2016. SHARING IS CARING, and I appreciate my work being shared with others! Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography (river-bliss.com). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all text and photos, without express and written permission from this website’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. In other words, I put my heart and soul into my writing and photography and want to be credited for it and have some traffic sent my way. It’s the high vibration thing to do!  🙂