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Reflections on a Wasp and Non-Violence


I’ve been thinking about the massive yellow jacket wasp that lived with me for a few hours last week. When I first saw it buzzing around the kitchen window, I immediately grabbed my shoe, ready to bash its brains out with a familiar ferocity. I’m allergic to yellow jackets and wasn’t going to play around. As it hovered in front of the window, I realized the window could break in the process if I wasn’t careful. I watched and waited, ready to pounce. It soon became apparent that this wasp was on its last legs/wings. It was weak, confused, ineffectual. With the realization, something in me shifted and softened with compassion, ease, and generosity for the creature. As it was dying, I was surprised at my affection for it, especially as I had only moments before felt threatened, fearful, and violent. I would check in on it tenderly, and wish it well on its journey.


While I shared its last hours, I thought about the yogic principle of Ahimsa, which means non-injury and non-violence towards living things. I reflected on the shift in myself, from violent destroyer to compassionate companion. I thought about how different it feels to drop the shield and sword, or the shoe, in this case. It felt more easy, more open, more comfortable.


I thought about how we humans fly around weak, confused, ineffectual, essentially all of us in the act of dying right now.


I thought about the ways I cause injury and commit violence towards myself. There are harmful thoughts and feelings that I “should” be doing life differently. I should be different or better. Somehow, I am on the wrong track (which is an impossibility, in reality). And how I harm myself by judging my aging face and body harshly, or direct any criticism to my thoughts, actions, or words. The list goes on of subtle and blatant acts of the self-harm of negativity.


I thought about how sweet and attractive inspiration feels, and how enjoyable it feels to spend time, energy, and attention on my goals. But negative self-judgement and stories about failure, laziness, distractability, etc, is counter-productive. It makes the whole process of growing and expanding feel like a brutal struggle, a competition and conflict against myself, instead of a delightful journey of self-discovery.


Later, when I removed the corpse from the dish drain, I solemnly tended to its disposal with care and respect. Okay, I wadded it up in a tissue and put it in the garbage, but mindful and grateful for the lessons on compassion, learned from this winged and furry teacher.

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