I see a vulnerability and tenderness in this damselfly. I cannot imagine how it survives for even a day. It seems to me that the wind, alone, would tumble her to her death at first gust. Yet this little creature flits about with all the confidence and strength of a Goliath, and the courage and artistry of a David.
I have gone through much of my life attempting to hide my vulnerability and tenderness. I have done this primarily by shutting down my emotions, passion, creativity, and intelligence. I feel myself doing it right now. I do it as a way of protecting myself. There can be some value in this when it is used sparingly and for extreme situations, but it interferes when it becomes a way of life.
By shutting down, I do not give my gifts to the world. I do not give my gifts to myself. I wither a little, and then a little more. The energy I put out is dull and lifeless at best, and destructive at worst.
I’m sad about my daddy. I avoid feeling all of the sadness by shutting down. Yet I know that the sadness could sweep over me in a cleansing sort of way if only I would allow it to do its work. I have experienced this time and again, and yet I avoid it still.
There is strength in vulnerability. There is healing in allowing the emotions to wash over me. They will not consume me if I simply allow them to move through me. I forget this, and the blocked emotions sit on me like thick fog smothering the mountain peak.
Today, I look to the delicate damselfly for courage. I will find strength in embracing my vulnerability; then I will be able to offer my gifts to the world.
