Befriending bugs

image description: a close-up photograph of a red dragonfly with translucent wings standing on a brown stick. the background is blurry and out of focus.

Whether they belong to more evolved species like humans or to simpler ones such as animals, all beings primarily seek peace, comfort, and security. Life is as dear to the mute animal as it is to any human being; even the simplest insect strives for protection from dangers that threaten its life. Just as each one of us wants to live and does not wish to die, so it is with all other creatures in the universe.” His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “A Human Approach to World Peace.”

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve always kind of liked bugs. We’ve had our ups and downs (notably: centipedes in the bathtub). But bugs are small, generally harmless, and commonly reviled, so naturally, I took kindly to them.

When I was young, I watched house flies get trapped indoors, slamming their bodies into the window until they died on the windowsill. This struck me as extremely sad, and also, something I could do something about. So I would raise the screen and guide them back out.

Despite this early fondness and concern, it took me until adulthood to befriend bugs. A long spell of isolation drove me away from people for a long time. During that time, I wasn’t really talking to any humans, except the “Hellos” and “Thank yous” at the grocery store and Planet Fitness, which I was very grateful for. And I didn’t have pets.

But boy, did my apartment have bugs.

Small spiders. Big spiders. Aforementioned centipedes, in the bathtub. Ants. Gnats. I once let in a few house flies while the door was open. The next morning, I woke up to 40 house flies all slamming their bodies against the windowpane, trying to get out.

Say what you will about the hygiene habits causing all these bug outbreaks.

But I felt strongly from a young age that every being had the same right to life. That it would be quite cruel to reach out and kill something that only had a few days or months to live its entire life. Just for bothering me. Quite unintentionally.

I wonder: how many times a day do we swat at what bothers us?

There is a metaphor here for how we relate to what’s irksome: A pesky gloom. An inconvenient sadness. A jerk in traffic. An overcast day.

Do we welcome our irritant as a teacher delivering lessons in patience? Or do we automatically contract and swat it away like a bug?

The next time a bug flies into your space, observe your reaction. Are you annoyed, disgusted, or afraid? Do you move away, swat, or kill it?

What does this habitual reaction say about your reactions to what is unpleasant, bothersome, irritating in daily life? And is that what you consciously choose?

Photo by Himanshu Gangwar on Unsplash