A Bug’s Eye View

Here I was, in my favorite window gazing out at the boats, when this big, juicy friend landed on the glass right in front of me.

We had a brief conversation about who the heck he was.  He wasn’t sure how to pronounce his scientific name, but he was pretty sure he was from around here, and that I wasn’t.  I think he knew immediately upon looking into my apartment, that he was seeing something pretty special.

When I moved here in February, after a lot of trauma and drama, I decided to furnish my home completely in white, with soft, furry rugs and pillows, cozy white blankets, luxurious white bedding and towels, and even a white, feather lamp.  It’s a place of healing and solace, and peace and calm.  Tranquility is the goal. I call it my cocoon.  

I’ve never lived by myself before, and I’ve certainly never furnished a place to my taste, always having inherited beautiful pieces that made up the style of my home.  A long time ago, maybe even about 25 years ago, I used to have a dream that I would entertain when the world got too harried.  I dreamt of a white home, right on the water, with white carpet and white furniture.  At the time, I had 3 little kids - and my house was anything but clean and white.  It was shoe-filled, dog eared, million projectful, stuff everywhere, with loads of noise, happiness and love.  I loved my home with my kids, having decided very early on that I could either have a perfectly clean home, or happy kids.  I’m glad I decided on happy kids.  There is enough time now for a perfect home.

So Mr. Bug - we can call him Ralph - spent a lot of time looking in my window.  He was enjoying the crystal orbs I have in the windows, and the golden-white candles that come on every evening.  I think he was digging my new wine fridge, and the painting of my 3 beautiful children, in a white frame.  I’m pretty sure he loved my bedroom the most with its plush, fluffy pillows, all pink and white and soft and sweet and clean and clear.

I asked if he had noticed the metamorphosis of me. I have been doing a lot of changing over these many months. From being a shattered shadow of myself, to today being pretty darn strong, I am evolving.  

Ralph, the bug, turned out to be quite chatty.  He showed off his cool colors and structure with me. He whispered through the glass for me to be strong, be kind and grateful, and to remember all of the amazing gifts I have.  He also did a little jig and told me that a happy life is all about dance and health and music and movement. After a while, he gave me the best piece of advice of all, and that is to spread my wings, to fly and be free, and to enjoy every second of this amazing life.  So, in return, I took a picture of him, and now have preserved Ralph the Bug for you, sweet Arthur.  I hope his lessons will resound with you, too, throughout your beautiful and amazing life.

Then, energized, Ralph smiled and took off.  I watched with horror as he swooped right in front of a greedy seagull, but Ralph did a curlicue in the air, zipped past the seagull, turned around and gave me a big wink, and flew away into the beautiful, summer afternoon.