With sadness, the cicada season is coming to an end. Time to reflect on these wonderful creatures. First encountering cicadas at age 13, I was saddened that these delicate creatures can live above ground for only three to six weeks.
How short of a time to enjoy life? As a teenager, I reflected that, whether it be the cicada’s three to six weeks or the human species’ average of 72 to 73 years, one’s life span relative to eternity is essentially zero (any number divided by infinity is zero). At age 13, I was taught by cicadas that every day must be greeted with enthusiasm and appreciation; every day is precious. When I saw them next at age 30, I encouraged my girlfriend at the time to embrace the amazingness of the cicadas — their single-minded focus on procreation, their dedication to their mission and, of course, their beauty.
All she could see was that they were “gross bugs.” Unable to expand her thinking, she demonstrated to me the importance of surrounding oneself with people who are open-minded and willing to look at life in expansive and creative ways. Seventeen years later, at age 47, with young children, I enjoyed spending time on the beach marveling at these insects.
My family and I let them walk on our arms and enjoyed watching them waddle around on the ground and fly in air. Our eyes were opened to enjoying the beauty and wonder of being outside, in nature. Who needs TV? We threw our television out, and it has not reappeared since.
Cicadas taught our fam.
