The Dead Battery and the Dragonfly

When the key in my ignition turns and there’s no power, I lift my hood to investigate the battery. What I find is a huge dragonfly tucked inside the grill. Dead and dried, but in tact, I show Jeb and tell him I’ll take it as a sign that something magical is happening.

Sure, he thinks it’s magic. He’s got a delay on getting to school this morning and gets some extra time on his skateboard while I call triple A. Still, I can see a little sparkle in his eye at my suggestion. He’s ripe for the supernatural right now – we’re on chapter eight in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

An hour later, I’m jumped and driving. Jeb’s dropped at school and I’m en route to Aloha Transmission and Auto Repair, where a Hawaiian grandfather with white mutton chops has his adult son test my battery. His granddaughter, about two years old, wanders up to me, arms open. Her shirt says “you are my sunshine” and she looks at me as though she’s known me all her life. I move down to her height as she smiles, reaching out to lightly touch my earrings

The battery is officially dead. The alternator tests good. For less than $100, I’ve got a new battery, good for 5 years, and I’m back on the road, only an hour late for my first work appointment.

As I drive my newly charged vehicle, I stretch my mind to the days when I sat around the fire with the fringe-dwellers at Rainbow Gatherings in my twenties. The hippies may have adopted the divination practice, but animal totems are rooted with indigenous people. I don’t know much except for the Animal Medicine cards someone gifted me a few years back. I seem to recall that Dragonfly represented Illusion and the prompting to look beyond what is seen on the surface.

The metaphysical aside, basic entomological facts include a flight speed of about 24 mph, multi-faceted eyes that have nearly a 360 degree view, and a propensity for eating bugs (particularly the pesky ones).

Whatever the meaning, I’m happy to be up and running. Though our battery mishap seems to be the first in a series of strange events involving either our car, Jeb, or both. Two days later, a thief opens our car door and steals Jeb’s school backpack out of the backseat. Nothing valuable, really, but creepy nonetheless. And the next day at school, a younger girl becomes obsessed with Jeb’s bag of Chex mix, rips it from his hand, and when he tries to get it back, she bites him on the finger (no broken skin).

Last night, post-dinner, with the quiet of the evening settling on us both, Jeb reflects on the past few days.

“Mom, you know how you said you think that dragonfly meant something magical was happening? I don’t think it means there’s magic. I think what’s happening is just bad luck.”

I’m not really a ‘bad luck’ believer. Don’t know where he got this concept. But I’m not going to push my magic dogma either.

“Mmmm…” I reply. “I don’t know. I guess it’s all in how you want to look at it. I don’t understand what’s going on with some of these things happening lately. That’s the mystery. But no matter what it all means, I know one thing for sure. That dragonfly is definitely cool.”

Earthquakes, Chili Peppers and Vinyl Records

Did you feel it?

That’s a section on the US Geological Survey website
(A Science for a Changing World)

I was feeling a lot of things
in my dream

listening to vinyl records
with the man who
professed his passion
for hot chili peppers

people all around us
were preparing for
impending disaster
tsunami maybe
but I was not well-versed

I was looking at his bookshelves
putting the needle on the record
might as well listen to a good tune
feel happy
when catastrophe strikes

there was that white knitted afghan
tilted shelving
an enormous brown couch
who was it we were listening to
when my bed began shaking?

I felt an earthquake
while I was dreaming
rocking me in waves
while I slept

In the morning
I jot the dream details
but my rattling bed
is doubtful
in reality
there are no earthquakes on my dormant island

to be sure
I search the USGS
maybe I felt distant fault lines trembling

documented there
2:59am
on the other end of my island chain
Hawaii had a 2.1 tremor
and so too, Japan
a 5.1
the Philipines
4.9

when you look to see the online list
it seems the whole world is rumbling!

courtesty USGS

“Did you feel it? Report an earthquake”
links
in cyberspace

I won’t report it
except for here
record players and chili peppers
earthquakes shaking my bed

dream science
a changing world
are we feeling it?

Extraction

They say you can run, but you can’t hide.  Looks like that little smiley molar has finally caught up with me.

Remember?

Back in November when I first started writing to the Archives, there was that dental visit.  The wisdom teeth assessment.  And me, ever-hopeful to avoid the surgical knife, researching positive affirmations to heal my third molar complications.  Or at least hold the inevitable at bay.

I’m not knocking Louise Hay or the power to heal yourself through the mind (or other alternative methods – if you read my posts of late, you’ll know that is quite possibly happening for me in other areas of my physical health).

Truth be told, I don’t think I was very dedicated at repeating Louise’s uplifting mantra, specifically aimed for wisdom teeth issues.  Not that it’s my fault these teeth are giving some trouble.  Frankly, I’ve been monitoring their progress via x-rays for 8 years.  They’re determined.  They’re on the move.  They want down and out.  Free to be!

Ok, so maybe they’re not going about it on an exactly straight and narrow path (what’s the fun in that?!).  Maybe they do have a bit of an angle in their trajectory.  Looks like they need a little guidance.  Some help in setting them free, once and for all.

courtesy of walknboston

And in their slow-mo descent through my gums, perhaps I need the Louise-Hay-positive-affirmation-reminder as a peace-maker.  An antidote to the suffering that comes with resistance.  A way to embrace this extraction.  Frankly, until this morning, I’d forgotten the maxim completely.

 “I open my consciousness to the expansion of life.  There is plenty of space for me to grow and change.”

Ok.  I feel like I’m expanding already.  Busting out into new realms.  Just like my top two wisdom teeth, which, as of Friday, will finally see the light of day.  And then I guess it will be their ultimate demise.  I can bless their passing.  Let go with love.

Discover a whole new appetite for soup.