Freedom comes in many forms.

To Be a Dragonfly — Rising from the Mire to the Light

Last week I was looking out my sliders into the backyard of my apartment. It was late afternoon, and the sun was at its height. I noticed a bunch of flying insects but thought, It’s October — it can’t be dragonflies, especially that many. It rained the next couple of days at that time, and I didn’t see anything in the yard. But the next bright afternoon, they were back — and they were dragonflies. A large swarm. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t remember ever seeing them like that before, especially in October. I’d like to think they were there for me — that maybe it was a sign. I could really use one right now. As I think most of us could.

It was beautiful watching them — dozens of dragonflies flying freely in the sunlight. I wondered what that must feel like, to experience that kind of freedom. A day or two later, they were gone.

I started thinking about the life of a dragonfly and how short it really is in that final, flying form. On average, they spend less than 10% of their lives as the dragonflies we see — if they even make it to that stage. Most of their existence is spent as nymphs, living in the mud and murky water below the surface.

Isn’t that a lot like us? What percentage of our lives do we spend in the mire — never reaching that moment of freedom? Like the nymphs, we often live below the surface, not realizing what we’re meant to be. We live on instinct, unaware of our potential, sometimes even accepting that as enough.

I aspire to one day be a dragonfly — to experience that kind of freedom. Too often, we get so entrenched in the mire that we forget our potential, or convince ourselves it’s unreachable, or that we’re not worthy of it. But the truth is, that freedom is there for all of us. To be our true selves. It’s what we were meant to have — no matter our sex, race, religion, nationality, sexual orientation, or any other label placed on us.

We are all human. We are connected. At the core, we are the same.