I've actually contemplated doing something like this before, but there was never any real impetus to do it. Nudged into action by my minister and classmates, I wrote my belief statement in a couple of hours on a Monday night. I was a little surprised at what actually came out--but looking at it again a few weeks later, I can see that it fits perfectly. At my minister's request, I shared it with the congregation during a Sunday service a couple of weeks ago. I thought that I might also share it with you.
This I Believe: March 21, 2011
I am the girl who does not kill bugs. The girl who gets annoyed with her husband when he squishes a fruit fly. The girl who makes a secret pact with the spider in the corner that if he promises not to crawl on me during the night, I will pretend I never saw him.
My reason for not killing bugs is not because I particularly like them (I don’t). It is not because I don’t want to be cruel (though I don’t). It is not because I believe in reincarnation and think one day I might come back as a bug myself (though I don’t rule out the possibility). It is because, more than anything, I value the gift of life so much that I don’t want to rob anyone—or anything—of even a few precious moments of breath.
I believe that life is short and full and messy and fragile and indescribably, almost painfully, beautiful. There are times that I look at the sun through the leaves or taste the first strawberries of spring or rub my hands along the table my grandfather made and find it all so wonderful that I can hardly breathe. The richness of the world astounds me, and I believe the greatest tragedy would be to be here and to miss it.
I believe my highest tasks are to savor every moment of this life I’ve been given, and to do all that I can to ensure that others can do the same. It is for these reasons that I sometimes swing at the playground on my lunch breaks, that I encourage my coworkers to take every last one of their vacation days, that I chose a career as a social worker to help others have every opportunity at a full and joyous life. It is for these reasons that I try with all my might to stop and to breathe and to look and to listen and to feel and to feel and to feel. And it is for these reasons that I do not kill bugs, for who is to say that their short life on Earth is of lesser value than mine?
It’s likely that the bugs I ignore or take outside will, at best, live a matter of weeks or months. It’s even more likely that they will get stepped on, or drown in a puddle, or get eaten by a hungry bird. But until that happens, perhaps they will enjoy a tasty leaf, or feel the warmth of the sun, or emerge from the chrysalis into something beautiful and new. And I believe that they deserve those small joys, even if they don’t recognize them as such. Knowing that we are all but tiny specks on a continuum beyond our understanding, I believe that we all have the right—and the responsibility—to savor every moment we are given on this Earth. Every person, every animal, every being. Even the bugs.
