11 Jun Dragonfly consciousness

Above the mountain stream, fragile blue creatures dance. They dart from left to right and dance nervously around each other, now on the other side, then close by, without taking breaks or running out of breath.

Transparent wings
Look, there flies another species. This one is larger and black and yellow. The dragonfly lands flawlessly on a stone next to the water, close to me. She sits there motionless. I shift a little and sit closer to get a better look at her. She still isn’t moving. I carefully slide a little closer. Only now do I see her wings. They are positioned at a 90-degree angle relative to her body. The wings are completely transparent. That comes in handy for not standing out.
I notice that the wings briefly light up with a silvery tint every time sunlight reflects off them. I think to myself: does the dragonfly know this? What is dragonfly consciousness actually like?
I try to empathize with her consciousness.

‘I am sitting on a stone in the sun with my wings spread. My eyes, located on the sides of my head, detect the slightest movement 360 degrees around me. I feel the wind making my wings tremble and hear the water splashing.’

The infinite, vast Now
What makes the dragonfly decide to fly? The dragonfly has no language like we do. She is not talking to herself, as we constantly do. The dragonfly is in the infinite, vast Now. For her, there is no later or just now. Her consciousness is direct and one with the environment.
By now, my daughter has roughly snapped me out of my romantic dream and tells me that the dragonfly is a true predator. She catches almost 100% of all her prey! If a small insect is targeted by a dragonfly, it doesn’t stand a chance.
Does that change anything about how I should imagine her consciousness?

A good-or-bad consciousness
I think that animals in general have a here-and-now consciousness, and we humans have a yesterday-and-tomorrow, you-and-me, there-and-here, and a good-or-bad consciousness. Through the conversation with ourselves, with which we judge and comment on everything, we are separated from our surroundings and from the moment. That is also where religion comes into play. During meditation or prayer, you can experience that unity again. Suddenly, the dragonfly shoots forward, flies a few sharp, angular lines, and lands on a stone on the other side of the water. Two days later, my daughter knocks on the door of my room. In her hand, she has a red stone. On the stone lies a black-and-yellow dragonfly, motionless. She found it along the river. The dragonfly gets a spot on the altar that I have provisionally made in my room.

Summer Inspirations
This hot summer, I found myself in the Zen temple at an altitude of 800 meters, where we sat still for long periods. For the last 10 days, my youngest daughter also joined in.
This year, I did not write any summer inspirations, but dedicated myself entirely to life in the temple. I hope you also had a good summer and that you managed to accept the heat and not fight against it.

*This post has been automatically translated from Dutch