This week’s photo is something that is beautiful to me, because of it’s sentimental nature. It is a gardening center that was put together by my husband and my kids, for me, for Mother’s Day. This past year I have gotten into gardening because of it’s magical undertones. I am a scientist at my core, but, come on, do any of us really understand how plants germinate, grow, and bloom? How are some flowers so vivid in color and perfect in shape? God’s perfection in contour and detail triumphs man’s best attempts at imitation every time! When I go out into my garden, I start at my gardening center, and think to myself how lucky I am to get to take part in such a rewarding hobby. I smile, and breathe, and appreciate life for all of it’s complex simplicity.

One day last week I arrived home from work ready to shed my doctor hat and start in on my gardening. I threw on some comfortable clothes, my gardening apron, and, of course, my straw hat. I had recently purchased some seeds of California Wild Flowers that were pre-packaged in soil. I spoke to the gentleman who was selling them at a Fourth of July festival, and he promised big returns from the $5 pouch of seeds. My mind was picturing my back yard covered in beautiful wild flowers, the wind blowing them back and forth, the sun dancing on their colors, and butterflies and hummingbirds to make the daydream complete. I had placed the seeds under a wet cloth for a few days per the instructions to start the germination process. As I arrived at my gardening station, I reached down to lift the wet cloth to peek at my seedlings, and there it was: MY WORST NIGHTMARE- it was a centipede, I think. These bugs are found around my house, and I had never seen them before I moved to California, so I googled it, and I believe it is a centipede. It has a fuzzy body, is brown gray, and has a hundred legs that almost look like hair, but make them move so fast that they appear to hover. They do not bite, and are essentially harmless, but I abhor them.

My eyes widened, then squinted. My fear and anger was growing in intensity, as I tried to come up with a game plan to rid the world of this pest. I pictured myself flinging over my whole gardening center, and running like a kid back into the safety of my house…but what about my seedlings? This plan was not viable. And then, out of no where, I heard the back sliding door of my house open…”Gee…?” A little voice said. The interruption of the tension that was building made me jerk:

“Kellen, what are you doing here?” I asked as he normally hides in his room to play video games. Kellen is my step son, and he is now 19 years old. He is incredibly handsome, and incredibly sweet. He is on the autism spectrum, but is very high functioning. He just recently graduated high school, and we are all so proud of him.

“I just heard you out here, Gee, and wanted to see what you were doing…” Kellen responded.

“Oh that’s just wonderful, Kellen, I actually need a favor from you…” I said as I smirked an evil grin…

“Sure Gee, what is it?”

I reached over and grabbed a shovel, I handed it to Kellen, and I pointed to the centipede and said: “Do it…” In my best God Fatherish tone.

“Do what?” He replied in all of his innocence

“MURDER” I responded… “It’s ok, Kellen, Gee says it’s ok…” I tried to convince him. Kellen took the shovel and reached over to the Centipede, and laid it in front of him almost as an insect red carpet of sorts. The menace compliantly got onto the tip of the shovel. Then Kellen turned and faced me, moving the centipede closer to my face. I saw my life flash before my eyes…

“I can’t do it, Gee…” He said as he moved near…

“What in the world are you doing, Kellen?!?!?!? Kill him!!!” I screamed.

“No, I’ll just move him, Gee…” he said as he flung the centipede into a flower bed right outside my bedroom door. The bug hit the dirt, and wiggled into the ground, hidden for then, but sure to resurface at some point. I felt my anger bubbling over, I grit my teeth and I replied to Kellen in a completely fake parent voice:

“Thanks, kiddo…I appreciate you…”

“No problem, Gee! I love you!”

“Love you too, Kel.” I said as he put down the shovel and headed in.

And then I started to think about fear. Where does fear come from? Why didn’t Kellen fear that evil bug? Why would I have such a strong response to an insect that would not hurt me? Certainly I was not born that way, it is something that was learned at some point in my life. The fact that I can have such a strong response to something benign really confused me. It is not an adaptive mechanism that benefits me in any way. And if I have these fears buried inside of me, what other fears have I acquired along the way that are impairing me for no good reason?

I know that fear is the underlying issue in so many things- limitations to new endeavors because of fear of failure. Not wanting to make new friends because of fear of being hurt or disappointed. Most of the fear I could think of in my life was centered around self protection in some way. When I pursued the thought further, I realized that fear is really non-sensical, and serves no real purpose most of the time. Fear, I believe, is the underlying source for racism, sexism, ageism, and all of the other ‘isms’. My fear of centipedes demonstrates the physiological changes that occur in me at the sight of an innocent insect. What about the fears of greater issues? Guns? Terrorism? Even driving to work every day can evoke fear. Fear that illicit visceral responses, and makes us act out in all sorts of inappropriate ways. Ok, so now I realize that I suffer from fear that makes day to day life uncomfortable. But what now?

One thing that really helps me to put fear into terms of understanding is a quote by Elkhart Tolle:

“Boredom, anger, sadness or fear are not ‘yours’, not personal. They are conditions of the human mind. They come and go. Nothing that comes and goes is you.”

When I remember that my fears do not define me, I then have the power to discard of them like turning the page of a book. I can take that fear, and let it pass like items on a conveyor belt, looking to the next idea, one of love and inclusiveness. One where every one and everything has it’s role in this world, and has been placed here, much like myself.

I also like this quote by PETA President Ingrid Newkirk:

“Every animal has his or her story, his or her thoughts, daydreams, and interests. All feel joy and love, pain and fear, as we now know beyond any shadow of a doubt. All deserve that the human animal afford them the respect of being cared for with great consideration for those interests or left in peace.”

If everything and everyone is part of an ecosystem, each with it’s own role, I have no choice but to accept all creatures and all things. I refuse to live my life in fear, and will deal with whatever consequences may come if and when they do. I am the captain of my own ship! I control my own thoughts, and thus my fears. I now vow to you all, my dear friends, that the next time I encounter a centipede, I will no longer seek an innocent bystander to do my dirty work for me…I will kill that damn bugger myself!