286. The Junk Bug - Rhonda Willers
Junk Bug and Lacewing by Rhonda Willers
In this lifetime, I am working to be free and liberated from carrying things that are not mine to carry.
Recently I learned about a fascinating insect called a junk bug that carries a gnarly heap on its back as it moves about the world. At first glance this heap looks like a dustball the size of a pencil eraser, but it’s actually a stack of empty carcasses of its eaten prey. After devouring aphids, mealy bugs, and mites, the junk bug piles their ghostly forms on its back and carries them around for protection and camouflage from the predators of their world.
Later, the junk bug cocoons and transforms into a lime-green, fairy-winged, dancing lacewing, which is drawn to the warm glow of a summer porchlight. Through this change, lacewings become the opposite of their dusty former selves who dwelled on the ground, the ghostly skeletons traded for shimmering oversized wings, their new iridescent golden eyes drawing them near to light and their nourishing food sources.
I can’t help but see this as a symbol, something we humans could learn from. A couple of years ago, I began an active practice of identifying what I am carrying that isn’t mine to carry. I started with my fear of heights. Throughout my childhood, my mother was terrified of them. While on family camping trips to densely wooded state parks, my sisters, dad, and I would climb high viewing towers, the promise of a river valley vista or expansive view of rolling hills drawing us up above the treetops. My mom stayed below, her arms tightly wrapped around herself. We could always hear her calling, “Don’t get too close to the edge, it makes my knees hurt.”
As I cocooned and questioned, I recognized that feeling of fear in my legs when I’m at a height, just like my mother had felt. But as I interrogated it more—as I pulled off the flimsy skeletons of my past experiences—I learned two things: My desire to be physically high is greater than the feeling of fear in my body, and I’m not actually afraid of heights. My body only wants me to be cautious as I explore. The sensation of fear is a reminder not to stop, but instead to be aware, to slow down, to notice more.
Some of the removal of those lifeless skeletons and fluffy junk has been passive, happening subconsciously. But through this active practice of noticing, I get to acknowledge the things I am leaving behind or have left behind. To recognize and honor the metamorphosis.
In this lifetime, I am working to be free and liberated from carrying things that are not mine to carry. I want to intentionally carry things that nourish me, that allow me to contribute to the collective in ways that help others expand and heal, and that help me expand and heal. I want to carry things that lift us up, that make us light.
- Rhonda Willers
