Mojo

So I got this tattoo. It’s ok, mom knows about it and has seen it, and well, dad doesn’t come to the blog, so I’m still safe on that avenue [though he’s had to have seen it, even though he hasn’t said anything!].  But I got it. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I purposely put it somewhere that I can see it and I find my eyes drawn to it on a regular basis lately. In moments of stress, I’ve developed a new habit and find myself tracing the thin colored lines.

There was a reason for the timing, an accomplishment that let me cross something off my “before I die” list. There was a reason for the design, dragonflies signify rebirth and regeneration and rejuvenation, in other circles they represent clarity and control. And there was a reason for the colors and number of dragonflies—two bugs for two kids, one midnight blue and one maroon. Lately, the accomplishment and rebirth have had little to do with the furtive glances and calming trails my fingers make.

Everyone has a happy thought. Whether they want to admit it or not. It’s like magical mojo to get them out of a funk. A certain woman I know lives by her “Get dressed and do your hair and put on your make up and look better, then you’ll feel better” mojo. She’s not wrong. It does work. Another girl I know really needs to get some more crystals hung in her windows, because rainbows are for more than just Kermit. But my particular happy has always been one of two things, dragonflies and rocks. My new house is full of cool rocks, some with history, some from a $2.99 WalMart bag, and some from a recent trip to the beach. My new house is also full of dragonflies. Because a good friend will help you move, but an amazing friend will put stickers all over your house when you’re not looking and make it a game… a game that gives you a silly little smile when you least expect it [because really, the butter drawer in the fridge needed a dragonfly?].

The chi is good here, and if I’m not here I’ve got a little chi with me. Always. On my wrist. But now, because of the way I melded all the meanings into the ink, the chi also reminds me that there are two wonderful children in this world that may have come from me but don’t belong to me. They belong to the universe and themselves, and the best I can do is prepare them to deal with that fact. Sure I write, and I have a day job, but in reality, at the end of the day, I only have one job in this world: to make sure those dragonflies are safe and healthy and happy.

So, because it’s the end of the week and this is supposed to be a Coffee Talk… [and yes, if you follow my facebook or twitter you may have seen me realize it was Thursday sometime late yesterday afternoon!] What’s your chi? Your magical mojo that helps you remember your happy place? Is it an item, a song, what? Talk to me!

And if you don’t think you have one, think harder—you do. Everyone does. It’s that little silly whatever that talks us down from the ceiling and motivates us and helps us remember our priorities. Because in the end, it’s all about priorities.

Mine are tucked in and snoring softly. Safe and healthy and happy. One maroon, one blue. Now if everything else would just fall into place…

0 Responses to Mojo

  • I collect rocks, too. I have them everywhere. And my son has taken to collecting them too.

  • Joseph Mulak says:

    My book collection. I have about 300 books on various shelves in my office. My wife gets mad at me because I like to go downstairs and sit there and stare at them. My books have been the only thing throughout most of my life that I could always call my own. I started the collection when I was a teenager. Those books were with me when I first moved out on my own. They came with me when I got married. They came with me when I got divorced. They came with me when I moved halfway across the country to a new home and a new start (my first time ever living away from my home-town of North Bay, ON). I add to that collection with every paycheck, treating myself to more books. My wife, second wife, get upset because she thinks this obsession is supposed to be compensating for something missing in my life. I think they’re really cool.

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