A Bugs Perspective

A Bugs Perspective, By-Garrett Neuschatz

I thought it would be interesting to share what life is like from the eyes (Possibly Multiple Eyes) of an insect. 

Spider- I sit patiently, unwavering, unmoving waiting for my next victim to fall into my trap. The slightest movement would give myself away. I see a stray fly hovering up and down in the breeze, on a collision course with its unknowing death. I can almost taste it, but I fight to contain my excitement as my meal skirts ever closer. All of a sudden in the blink of my eight eyes the fly collides with my invisible wall, one which it will never leave. I creep over slowly and satisfied to the center of my web. As I wrap my prey I feel victorious. But my work is not done, I weave and create like a tailor, forever expanding my net. For now I can rest but when the morning comes, life will be the same, a solo fight for survival.

Ant- I see my comrades marching around me. An invisible force tells me what job I have, how to do it and where to go. I feel I cannot stop working not now, not ever. Like zombies with no free will me and my brothers march towards the smell of something sweet wafting through the air. I navigate the grass like a dense jungle, creeping closer towards the source of the aroma. I find something other ants could only dream of, a king size snickers bar lying unprotected and glistening in the suns rays. I tell the others of my find with great pride, I know we will have to act quick. Like miniature miners who found gold we begin tearing into the candy at a ferocious pace. I know the colony needs it but a few bites of the savory snack couldn't hurt anyone. The feeling of pure sugar induced glee is stripped away and replaced with terror in an instant, as some godly creature slams down a fist and the ground shakes around me. I see others fleeing, but its too late as am lifted towards the sky. I'm careening towards my doom, so I muster all my bravery and leap. I hit the ground with a thud and scamper away in a moment of pure adrenaline. I never knew it was this scary to be an ant.

Caterpillar- I love my life, not a worry in the world, munching on leaves until my stomach aches and the sun goes down. But today is different as I wriggle around I feel something coming, something new. Today I feel the urge to devour even more food as if I'm preparing myself for some rigorous task ahead. It begins, I curl up with the sense of extreme exhaustion, so extreme that I could sleep forever. There is something encompassing me, an outer layer, a protective shell. Then it all goes dark and time slows to a crawl. A bright light shines down on me as I burst from my cocoon. Something feels odd, almost as if I'm in an entirely new body. I feel an overwhelming sense of wonder and excitement to take on my new life and new form.

One Day, One Day by Liv Przydzial

And sometimes I venture to a special place in my mind, a special place that takes me to where I want to be more than anything. 

* * * 

I'm in a Volkswagen camper van, one covered in tie-dye peace sign stickers and painted in colorful shades of the happy colors. Although the van might be blue, we were anything but that. All the windows were down and the pleasantly warm summer breeze drifted by as we wound our way around the Pacific coast. Music blared from the radio, replaying old songs from our childhoods. Everyone knew all the words, and we all laughed as we attempted to reach a high note. Everyone wore a smile on their face, and the slowly setting sun cast golden glows upon our sunkissed faces. The ocean just a hop, skip, and a jump away reflected the rainbow of colors infecting the sky. 

As we climbed our way to the beach, songs by the Beetles blared. Our hands in the air, our wrists crowded from all of the friendship bracelets from old and new friends, we danced our way down local streets. A blur of people milled up and down the boardwalk. The ocean's salty aroma wafted to us, mixing with the chatter of the people and the seemingly distant crashing of the waves. 

Perhaps the stereotype of the recklessness of teenagers was true, but maybe a part of the story was forgotten. Why didn't anyone talk about how liberating it felt to ditch the heavy burden of material things behind and live for the moment? Why didn't anyone talk about how much more meaningful each day was when you lived in and for every second of it? Why didn't anyone ever talk about life as the new, colorful, make-it-what-you-want-it entity that it was, rather than the monotonous, day-after-day blandness that society made it out to be? 

Regardless, as soon as the van rumbled to a stop, I flung open the door and essentially spilled out. My legs like that of a newborn fawn, I stretched from the long ride down here. Even the pavement was covered in sand carried here by a million people, the thought of which made me happy, because I was now a part of this too. I was already in my bathing suit, as where the rest of my friends. We would race to the end of this world and the next together, all of our steps in synch, our feet creating a dust storm behind us, each footstep resonating within the earth. The sand between my toes was so fresh, so raw. I understood what it now felt like to be in touch with nature, myself, and the people around me - all at once, and it was simply exhilarating. We plunged into the warm water, emerging with salty hair and laughs. 


It was liberating, to be swept off your feet and into the sea. The ocean was such an unimaginably huge entity of unknowns, a seemingly endless expanse of secrets that would never be fully understood. Perhaps some would find this terrifying, but I was actually rather entranced. To me, the ocean was full of contradictions. The waves crashed with vigor and anger, while all the life dependant on it hung in a gentle balance that something as simple as a minor breeze could sway out of control. As unknown and scary the depths of the water below us seemed, I felt nothing less than free, with nothing dragging me down but gravity, which didn't even feel as heavy as it normally did. 

* * * 

With our salty lips and soaked hair, we sat side by side on the beach, watching the sun rest atop the horizon. How big was this earth? What was beyond that line? Perhaps I would never know, but the beauty was not in knowing, but in speculating what wonders one could find in such a mysterious thing such as this. 

It was easy to feel satisfied. Feeling exhilarated, wild, and free, and ultimately falling asleep happy all at the same time was a challenge so simple in nature yet so unattainable and out of reach for those afraid to break the chains of the weights on their shoulders. 

As the sun dipped below the cloudless sky and the first stars unmasked themselves, my fingers strummed the ancient strings of my mother's guitar, the vibrations flowing through each of my veins and into everyone else's. We sang whatever songs came to mind and laughed when we all forgot the lyrics and came up with our own. 


* * *

Although I dream of such a mental, physical, and soul-quenching liberation, I know that the value in such a phenomenon is only understood with a background in the opposite. To be free, you need to be in bondage, an unfortunate cycle that nobody has strayed far enough from to break out of. I hope that maybe one day, maybe just one day, I'll be the one to go far enough into the darkness to find the light switch to happiness in everything I do, but for now, the most I can do is at least attempt to be happy in as much as possible, until I reach far enough into the dark to light up this world.

Normal

This summer was a fairly normal summer. I tried to do more, but it ended up being just... normal. One of those normal activities was the Muscular Dystrophy Association summer camp, which is one of the highlights of my summer.

MDA summer camp is a 5-day sleep-away summer camp, for anyone under 18 with disabilities affecting their muscles. It has many activities, just like a regular camp. It has arts and crafts, a pool, a talent show, laser tag, and many more. It's a lot of fun, and I wish it was longer.

It's one of the normal things I do in summer.

And at camp, I'm normal.

A picture of campers and counselors doing arts and crafts at MDA summer camp this year.

Everyone at camp has a disability, and everyone gets their own counselor who helps them and takes care of them. The activities are inclusive and accessible, so that everyone can take part. They had wheelchair soccer, which basically turned the chairs into bumper cars, and bazooka baseball, which was regular baseball except the ball was launched by a pressurized launcher which the camper aimed. They even made a "flying squirrel" activity, where you get launched into the air attached to a pulley system, accessible to everyone.

All of these adaptations aren't just for me. They're for everyone. At camp, I can hang out with people who are like me, and I can feel comfortable and do everything just like everyone else. I'm not special there, and that's okay.

Lots of people take being able to do things for granted. And at camp, I can too. Living with a disability is far from normal, and I'm okay with that. I've adapted to it, and I have fun with it, despite all the obstacles. I'm not saying that everyday life is a struggle. It's fine most of the time. But, every once in a while, I like to be normal, to just relax and not worry about the accessibility side of things.

My summer was a normal one, and that's okay. Normal isn't always bad.