Graying Mantis

I’m trying to mind-control my depression out the door. Which, by the way, I do NOT believe you can actually do in most cases of depression, but mine is currently low-level enough that I’ll give it a crack. At least, I would like to enjoy spending the day with myself, instead of waking up every morning to dread that sour, ruminating voice.

So I hear you’re supposed to write about things that make you grateful. Well, today I’m grateful that I saw a praying mantis climb the screen door. When its head popped up above the trim, it looked like a freaky lizard or some tiny snake. But then I watched it. Praying mantis limbs move in an ungodly way. Ungodly, unreal, generally macabre. It moves too slowly! Too smoothly! It’s like an insect sloth. It’s like if a blade of grass came to life, but that blade of grass had a hangover.

My favourite part of seeing this praying mantis is that, with every step, it searched around for a foothold. But it was climbing a screen door. Screen doors are nothing but footholds. Just spaces to put your tiny feet and wires to rest your tiny feet on. Still, it groped around, but smoothly.

I’m grateful I saw that.

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