So, moths. Yeah, those dusty things that flap around your porch light. I never used to think much about them, honestly. Just another bug, right? Sometimes annoying, especially when they get inside. I’d just shoo them away or, well, you know. Didn’t give them a second thought.
But then, I went through this phase, maybe a year or two back. I was spending a lot of nights just sitting outside, quiet. Couldn’t sleep much, mind racing. And I started really noticing things I hadn’t before. And the moths, man, they were always there. Not like a crazy infestation, but a few, every single night, doing their dance around whatever light source was on.
I got to watching them. Seriously, just observing. It became a bit of a habit, my nightly moth-watching session. One particular fella, or maybe it was a lady moth, kept bumping into my window, trying to get to the lamp on my desk. Over and over. It looked kinda dumb, to be honest. But also… persistent. Really, really persistent.
That got me thinking. Why do they do that? Why are they so obsessed with the light, even if it’s a fake one, even if it leads them to get zapped or just tire themselves out? It felt familiar, that pull towards something bright, even if you’re not entirely sure why, or if it’s even good for you. We all do that sometimes, don’t we?
I didn’t go out and buy a bunch of science books on moths or anything. But I did sort of poke around a bit, you know, just out of curiosity. Asked a couple of older folks I know. My grandma used to say they were spirits, or messengers. I always brushed that off as old tales when I was a kid. Funny how things stick with you.
Turns out, a lot of cultures have these ideas about moths. The big one seems to be transformation. Makes sense, right? Caterpillar to moth. That’s a pretty major makeover. And I was definitely in a place where I was thinking a lot about change, needing some kind of transformation myself. So that resonated, more than I expected.
And then there’s the whole light thing. Some say it’s about faith, or seeking truth, or this almost blind determination. Others see it as a warning, about being drawn to things that might destroy you. For me, watching them, it felt like a bit of both. There’s something almost tragic about it, but also something incredibly driven. They just have to go towards that light.
So, my whole practice, if you can call it that, was just sitting and observing these little creatures. No big scientific study. Just me, the night, and the moths. And I started to see them differently. Not just as pests, but as these little symbols of… well, a bunch of stuff. Vulnerability, for sure. They’re so fragile. But also incredible drive and this constant push towards something, even if it’s a bit misguided.
I guess what I took away from all those nights of moth-watching is that there’s a kind of beauty in that relentless seeking. Even if they don’t always get it right. It made me think about my own pulls, my own “lights.” And maybe to be a bit kinder to myself when I flap around a bit, chasing things. It’s all part of the process, I suppose. The change, the trying. That’s what I see now when a moth flits by. Not just a bug, but a little reminder.
