Lessons from Little Bugs

Published May 6, 2020 9 PM



Today I was sitting by the window watching my empty neighborhood streets because that is what the coronavirus has reduced me to, and I saw that a tiny bug had got itself trapped between the window pane and the wire. It was so small that I could not see its beady eyes, or its spindly legs. It was insignificant. 

Its wings were slightly larger than his body, but it was tiny enough that it could simply retract the wings and move back outside. However, the bug, like no one I’ve ever met, seemed to inexplicably see me (or something else inside, which is more probable) and consider whatever it saw utterly enchanting. It slammed its little body against the plastic separating us repeatedly. It was violent. The creature left tiny smears of dark blood on the pane. I’m sure it hurt, because even a pinch hurts if you get it over and over again. Still, the poor thing went on for at least ten minutes. I’m sure if I check my window now, the bug will be dead, but while I was sitting there, he did not stop, not even once. 

I wonder if I am that little bug. There’s a much easier route out of here, I know. There’s a lot of different ways to turn around and head to another window. Maybe an open one, maybe an open door. Maybe to even just enjoy the scenery that’s just outside, where I was before. Instead I slam my body against the window pane. I do it over and over, flitting around the screen like that will better my chances. The window is closed tightly, there is no gap I can go through, no matter how small I am. Still, I work at it. 

If I am that little bug, I cannot say I mind. I’m deathly afraid of every type of beetle, spider, flying insect you can imagine, but for a second, just a second, I liked that little bug. I might have even opened the window for it, had I not been reminded by the fact that I had to write this particular blog post before the end of the day. 

Would I have cared, had I opened the window, let the little creature flit around? Honestly, no. It’s an insignificant creature. It exists with no relation to me, and it owes me no thanks, even if I let it inside. It just exists. 

I would like to think, though, that if someone sees me slamming against my own window pane, they will choose to let me exist somewhere I would like to be, no matter how insignificant I am.



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