Death in the Living Room (and instructions for Life)

My praying mantis adventure seems to have come to an end. The poor little critters have apparently died, although I'm not ruling out the possibility of a survivor or two I haven't encountered yet. When I realized my home had been invaded I did some research on the web, and found out that - yes - the eggs should not have hatched until spring, and Mother Nature had been fooled when I brought my ficus tree indoors for the winter. Hence, the hatchlings. I tried calling a local botanical center, hoping they would like to adopt any of the baby mantises I could collect and transport to their greenhouse, but they never returned my call. My home just does not harbor the food that would have sustained the fledglings, and they perished after a few days.


In hindsight, I'm rather surprised how I handled the situation compared to what would have happened before I got sober. Previously, I would have freaked out, whipped out the electrolux and searched for black-market DDT. Instead, I just relaxed and let things take their natural course without my intervention. Well, okay, I did try to coax a couple of the babies to drink a drop of water, but for the most part I avoided running around like Henny Penny trying to fix everything. It helps, of course, that I like praying mantises and know they don't pose a threat. If I'd had a pestilence of black widow spiders the tale would be different.


One of the qualities I've been praying for over the past couple of months is patience. A side lesson from this exercise is learning to be careful what you pray for. I have caught every red light in Richmond since I prayed for patience. I sat behind one car through three traffic light cycles one evening, and it was only when I started laughing at the situation that the light changed. So the signal wasn't broken, as I supposed initially; it almost seemed like God was waiting for me to relax and acknowledge the lesson.


The Old Bill at the traffic intersection would have been fuming, honking the horn, cussing the driver in front of me, and whipping around and through the intersection. This doesn't mean I'm absolved from taking action when needed, but I'm beginning to understand that there are situations I simply cannot control, and the healthiest course of action is to go with the flow.


Now it's time to do some holiday baking, and I am still my mother's child, which means I will scrub, disinfect, and sterilize the entire kitchen before I make anything in case there are praying mantis footprints anywhere. My mom came home from the grocery store one day, and when she put a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter, a cockroach dashed out and ran behind the oven. She pulled the oven out from the wall to find it. For her, this was probably progress; I'm surprised she didn't put the house up for sale. Anyone who knew my mother would agree.

I ran across some instructions for Life I'll share. Feel free to add more in the comments section.

• go someplace you've never been at least once a year



• give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully



• don't believe all you hear, spend all you have, or sleep all you want



• when you say "I'm sorry," look the person in the eye



• never laugh at anyone's dreams



• don't judge people by their relatives



• when someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask "Why do you want to know?'



• call your mom



• remember that great love and great acheivements involve great risk



• when you lose, don't lose the lesson



• remember the three R's: respect for self, respect for others, and responsibility for all of your actions



• when you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps



• spend some time alone



• open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values



• remember that silence is sometimes the best answer



• read more books and watch less television



• trust in God but lock your car



• be gentle with the earth



• pray...there's immeasurable power in it



• mind your own business



• remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a stroke of luck



• judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it



• remember that your character is your destiny