People who have spent some time with me over the last year or so may have seen me do something which seems quite silly on the surface. If I find bugs in my apartment, I usually do not kill them, instead I chase them around and try to capture them and then relocate them to just outside my door. I don't blame people for thinking this is a little weird, it is. However, this is one of the more rewarding practices I've integrated into my day to day life, and maybe with a little explanation, it will seem a little less silly.

For most of my life, the reaction to a small gnat or moth flying near me was simple and automatic. It can be described in one word, clap. With a single blow, the bug would fly no more, would stay away from the TV or from my face, or whatever. It could be flicked off to the floor or wrapped up in a tissue and discarded. Problem solved!

But after learning a bit about the Dharma, and reading a bit about those who practice compassion for all sentient beings, from humans on down to mosquitoes, it struck a chord with me. I especially found this behaviour to be quite beautiful on retreat, where on more than one occasion I saw a random yogi chasing after some small insect with a cup and a napkin, trying to catch it to bring it outdoors. This action could not be summed up in a single word, it was distinctly different than the death clap that most of us have successfully mastered on the front lines of the war on insects.

I must admit, it is quite difficult for me to comprehend the notion that even an insect has sentience and the precious sparks that separate living entities from non-living entities. I think it is wonderful that some people have reached a level of compassion great enough to deeply value all forms of life, but I don't think I'm there yet. Instead, I look at this practice for its metaphorical value.

When you take a few moments out of your day to safely remove some insect from your living space rather than eradicating it effortlessly, it is an opportunity to remember how precious life really is. I find that by doing this, it helps me apply compassion and loving-kindness in the more crucial parts of my life, especially when dealing with people. Though it is always a challenge to remain mindful, I think that this has helped prevent me from death clapping people in conversations at least a few times, and has cultivated a greater sense of the value of simply being alive in my heart.

One indication of the influence of this practice on my life is that for a little while, I started killing bugs again. In the late months of summer, some fruit flies started to make my apartment a permanent home for themselves, and they became sufficiently annoying for me to start killing them on sight. Though it occurred to me another option would have been to keep my apartment a bit cleaner, I didn't really think much of it.

However, now that I look back on it, the period of time in which I was killing insects was around the same time that I stopped meditating for a few months. It's not that I think my sitting practice makes me some sort of insect messiah, but this does make me feel like the two are certainly connected.

So this is why I do not kill bugs, and why I hope that I can keep up with this practice. We owe it to ourselves to really understand what it means to be alive. Without this, we may end us mindlessly clapping our way through a graveyard of beings we've killed out of convenience or lack of compassion.

If we can remember to avoid killing a moth, leaving a little space in our hearts for patience and calm when someone cuts the line in the grocery store becomes a whole lot easier. If we can learn to love even the most insignificant beings, our most significant connections will become all the more precious to us.