To The Fly, We Are Gods.

To The Fly, We Are Gods.

All over the world there is this common ecstatic experience of a Big Blue Being who shows up during meditation, religious experiences, and psychedelic journeys. When coming face to face with it, people report being overwhelmed with fright, awe, and shock. Then it says things to them like, “DO NOT GIVE IN TO ASTONISHMENT.


Some say it is “a” God, some “the” God, and some say it is the connecting part of all of us that exists beyond this physical realm, our unified soul incarnate. The question of what exactly people are experiencing is its own can of worms, and this is a post about Flies, so we will have to open that one another time.

In my father’s house during a certain time of year you must keep the back door closed. If you don’t the Flies will come in, get lost in the dark and see the light from the bathroom window down the hall. Through the darkness they fly down the hall toward the light. When they get there, smack! – they hit the glass. Confused, they try again and again. And again and again, but they cannot get to the light.

Being too small of perspective they could not imagine going back out the dark hallway. Like a Greek myth they are bound to spend their short lives trapped. Almost reaching the light and never knowing that the path to salvation lies through the darkness.

_                   “BzzzzzzzzzzHELP!zzzzzzzzzz”

When you go to the bathroom you find yourself in a room with Flies buzzing around confused and bouncing off the window. It’s annoying, and the window does not open so you cannot just let them out. My first thought is killing the little fools, with the “Great Whistling Waffle of Death” (the Fly Swatter).

But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten all spiritual about it and started to see every living thing on earth as one being, one family. From the smallest to the largest, one complex organism all sharing the same DNA. These are my little cousins buzzing me like tiny pilots circling inside a giant trap. I finish my business, leave the room, and get a small juice glass and a piece of paper to slide under it.

Once back in the bathroom I think about that Big Blue Being. Given Fly eyes; the way they see color, heat, aura, or whatever radar they have, I imagine a human being must look like a giant glowing monster bearing down on them. Some hold still, some start bouncing furiously trying to get out the window, and some take to the air trying to get away. I think to myself – “what must you have done in your past life, to be thrust into such a nasty corner of hell?” I muse that they must be a bunch of little Hitler reincarnations or something. Stuck in a box for their entire time in this world, trying to go to the light and never reaching it.

Cousin Ikky


Could you imagine spending your entire life confused, trying to reach the place you so desire, and never getting there? The frustration must be horrible. The bright window an invisible barrier they cannot ever break through, separating them from having a free life in the warm light. I think about us all and the things that hold us back.  The invisible walls that we cannot see or understand. We are as blind to them by our limited perspective as these Flies, keeping us from ever reaching true flight in the warm sun.

I hum to them in a deep trance melody. In my way, I’m saying to the flies “do not give in to astonishment.” Like some kind of Fly Messiah, I hum imagining I am a giant loving light being, and it totally works! The Flies sit still, and I slowly put the glass over one. Once the glass is on him, he freaks out and tries to fly away, only to bounce around inside the now even tinier cell! I block the bottom of the glass with the paper, and I walk him into the dark.

What horror it must be for him. What a funny metaphor I think. He has put his trust into the giant humming being of light, and he has been locked away in an even more tiny hell. Thrust into the dark like Jonah in the Whale. How like taking the road less traveled this is, how like stepping into the abyss, trusting in the universe to carry you to the far ledge.

I think of how many times I have been too shy to leap, and how many times I have leaped. The safe place is there by at the window, near the light but never reaching it. Safe, but tortured. “Now, little Fly,” I hum, “it seems to you that you are in the danger zone. You took the risk of letting the giant clink the glass down on top of you and it led into the scariest place you could go – the Dark. Hummmmmm.”

Just as the Fly stops fighting the glass I reach the back door. I swing it open and fling him into the brilliant backyard sunlight. “Fly you annoying bastard!” I yell after him as he loops his way into into heaven. Suddenly free, he flies into the green sunlit garden, buzzing loudly. I imagine the ecstasy of his moment, finding that light finally accessible at the end of the dark tunnel. Into the sky he buzzes and disappears from sight; flying high into the warm day. I stand a second in the majesty of it, then turn, retrace my steps, and start singing to the next to be saved soul.