It’s Not All about Intention
The fluttering startled me as I opened the drawer for a stamp. Then I recognized the erratic movement as that of our resident pet moths. Grain moths, that is. We fight them every year and still find them in the oddest places, like the stamp drawer. There is absolutely nothing a moth can eat in there. However, I’m sure it could find plenty of places to lay its eggs.
To be a fancy pants, it would call itself Sitotroga cerealella. Interesting how it has cereal in its name, as its favorite staple is indeed cereal and grains. I guess it ate cereals in 1789 when it was named by a Frenchman, Guillaume Antoine Olivier.
But this isn’t really about the moth. I’m pretty good at catching the moths with my hand but in tight little drawer-like spaces, it gets a little tricky. I caught it twice but not completely. I decided to leave it, get my stamp, and move on. Then the flutter returned. It was climbing up the inside front of the drawer. I put my finger on it, intending to collect it in my hands and send it to its watery death in the sink. I pushed too hard.
Intentions went haywire then. I killed it without squishing too hard so it just sat there…forever…like a stamp.
I got my stamp, all the while thinking, “Why don’t I pick it up? I’m just going to leave that in the drawer. Wow. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. Why? Because I don’t feel like picking it up and throwing it away. Six months from now, someone, probably me, will say, ‘Hey there’s a dead moth in here.'”
I closed the drawer, put the stamp on my mail, and left the moth, consciously. I knew it was not the “right” thing to do. But it’s what I did. I can’t blame not thinking. I can’t blame anything but choice. I chose to do the wrong thing. I laugh. For what else is there to do?