The Beetle Rodeo

All of us carry over our shoulder a big burlap bag full of beetles, which are the emotional, physical and mental wounds we accumulate in the process of growing up. Each beetle speaks its wound, such as: “You can’t get anything right.” “You are stupid.” “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Nobody carries an empty bag, just some lighter than others.

By the time we’re adults, these beetles are getting really cramped in there, stuffed next to all these other insects with horned noses, pincers and proboscis. They coexist adequately until we’re in our twenties or so, but then they’re too big and cramped and start chewing at the burlap, determined to escape, and eventually, a different amount of time for each person, make their way out, crawl onto our shoulder and start repeating their painful mantra.

Beetle says: “You’re not good enough.”

I believe--> “I’m not good enough.”

Beetle says: “You’re stupid.”

I believe--> “I’m stupid.”

Beetle says: “You’ll never figure it out.”

I believe--> “I’ll never figure it out.”

The more we ignore them the more we see the world through Beetle Blinders.

Our beetles are asking for what they need: acknowledgement and action. They only know their one message, and repeat it over and over. Most of us aren’t taught how to engage beetles constructively; our parents didn’t know how; their parents didn’t know how; and their parents didn’t know how!

Every time we ignore them, stuffing them back into our bag, they eventually come back, only more insistent. Our beetles never give up. The more wounded the beetle, the more likely that it will be disowned and projected onto others. “I’m not good enough” becomes “You’re not good enough.” “I’m stupid.” becomes “You’re stupid.”

Shutting down our beetles begins an emotional calcification. We become numbed by our own rejected wounds which we believe are too dangerous and painful to consciously address or even see.

Yet there is an option: what if I learn to see and listen to these beetles, one at a time, and acknowledge them? Will they just grow and demand more than I’ll ever have? Or could this pissed-off thing yammering in my ear possibly have something I need?

The most difficult battle any of us can fight is with our own beetles. It takes courage and faith to start a dialogue with these haunting parts of ourselves, but if we want to grow into our fullest expression there is no way around it.

One of my most wounded beetles says:

” You’re ashamed of me …” which grew into “I’m ashamed of myself,” and sometimes projected as “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Trouble is, I can only see him out of the corner of my eye.

I need help so that I can see this thing on my shoulder and have a prayer of giving him what he needs. One way to do this is to trust someone/s to describe him for me …to help me see him in a way I’m not able to do alone. Someone who is very saavy with beetles; who knows how to whisper to them. I’ve tried all these years, and I just can’t give him what he needs and he keeps yakking the same thing on and on and if I don’t do something I’m going to lose even more than I’ve already lost.

I found the help I was looking for in a ritually-created safe zone crucible, far outside our normal day-to-day. Though it’s not called this, I think of it as “The Beetle Rodeo.”

[imagine a deep, gruff cowboy voice]

“Ok, boys, let’s see ‘em …don’t hold back on us now, give us your nastiest, stinkiest shitdrawer beetle …and let’s see if we can help you harness that bad boy, put him to work for you …can’t harness him if you can’t see him …”

Harness him? This thing wants to kill me!

” You really blame him? I mean, he’s you after all …and it ain’t been real nice down in that bag …y’ think?”

No …

And so it began, within the hallowed safety of this circle, my burgeoning dialogue with those parts of myself which I hate and fear and reject the most. And from this dialogue, made possible through the compassion modeled by those who know the territory, my beetles begin to transform, to heal, and to reveal gifts, extraordinary abilities which were unknown. “You’re ashamed of me” --> “I’m ashamed of myself” --> “You should be ashamed of yourself” transforms into the uncanny ability to recognize others who are deep in their own shame; to lovingly acknowledge that I see it, and so-doing perhaps help them begin their own healing journey. “You’re stupid” transforms into a humbling awareness of my infinite ignorance and tremendous compassion for it, along with compassion for others dealing with the same beetle.

I can only see some of them. I know there are others because I can feel them scratching around in that bag behind me. I guess we all need however much time we need to meet beetles on purpose; to learn to hold them out in front of us like a lighthouse; to ride them like a cowboy magician, to trust their strange and brilliant talents which can guide us into entirely new worlds, improbably-born from the parts of ourselves and others we hated, denied, and rejected the most.