I am murdering a colony of teeny tiny ants in my car.
I’m not sure how it started. We always have ants around the house (it is Florida)- but I’m surprised that I managed to bring in enough to start a whole civilization. It was probably beneficial that there must be enough Nature Valley granola bar crumbs under the driver’s seat to feed them for a year. (Why can’t Nature Valley get a handle on the crumbliness of their granola bars? But I digress).
For a little while it was not a big deal. I was willing to let the little guys crawl around the car. Occasionally one would climb on me and I would manage to not be too bothered by it. They don’t bite, or sting, or do anything except walk around, so although I wasn’t really thinking the whole thing through too clearly, I hoped we could manage some kind of peaceful co-existence.
Then, sometime in the last week, there was some sort of population explosion (I think it was around the time a Kong dog toy with some dog biscuit crumbs in it entered the car… long story). Suddenly, I had enough ants in my car (let’s call it “Antopia”) to populate the cars of most of my acquaintances. I could no longer ignore the fact that this was a problem. At some point, someone else was going to need to sit in my car with me, and it seemed a bit much to ask that they tolerate my pest problem in the name of non-violence.
…and frankly, the situation was becoming a bit of a nuisance. While I was still (mostly) willing to turn the other cheek, I occasionally found myself squashing one, almost idly, almost instinctually. No, I am not proud.
What the #%$ do you do in a situation like this? These poor ants didn’t have a choice about where they made their home- if anything, the fault was mine. I provided them with shelter and food, allowing them to blossom. Now, I was unwilling to tolerate their presence and so, they had to die.
It’s a ridiculous situation, but it’s been unpleasantly enlightening. When I inspect my earlier feelings on the ant situation, I realize that I had sort of hoped they’d die on their own, as it would be convenient for me not to have to murder them. My husband suggested that I clean out the car, which would (cue the ominous music) “take care of the problem.” At first glance, this seemed like a good idea. But wait: it’s still killing the ants, isn’t it? Whether I Windex them into oblivion or starve them by removing the Nature Valley crumb hoard, they’re going to die.
I came to the conclusion that I must face the task honestly. Before I drove to class this morning, I put some ant killer on cardboard and left it in a little cubbyhole under the radio. That tiny dab of clear poison glistened and winked at me all the way to St Lucie West, as though to say (in a smooth, oily voice), “Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got the situation under control.”
By the time my classes ended, and I returned to my car, the ants had discovered the poison and were forming mad lines to transport it back to their (condo? hive? lair?) living quarters.
I feel lousy. Yeah, it’s just ants. But HARMLESS ants. And a brilliantly big metaphor for the difficulties of really living a non-violent life. It was easy to hope they’d die alone. It would have been easier to look the other way as I vacuumed the car (which, don’t worry, I’ll do anyway). Life, and compassionate choices, are a lot harder when they are crawling all over your car.
I’m not a total sappy idiot. I know one can’t live a completely innocent life, devoid of harm to others. We have to find a line that we are willing to draw for ourselves, and sometimes it’s pretty arbitrary. The decisions that we make are often contradictory, and confusing. Maybe you buy organic to be kinder to the earth- but what about the local farmer whose business is suffering? You eat vegan, but the clothes you wear are manufactured in a third-world country by underpaid laborers in poor condition. I’m not starting a fight, or even a discussion, really- just saying, it’s damn HARD to make kind decisions day to day.
And some days, the decisions make me sad. Some days, the best thing you can do is face the decision head on and say, at least I didn’t look away from it. I lived with the ants, I killed the ants, and soon, I vacuum up dead ants.
Thanks for reading, friends.