Ants, Creativity and Turning 32
And some things I've learned along the way.
When spring hit this year, I knew it was time for the ants to come marching one by one into my apartment. They’re pretty relentless, so once I saw a couple, I got out the liquid ant bait packets. If you don’t know, the ants go toward the bait, then a lot of them take it back to the queen, and then the queen spreads it to the rest of the ants, causing them to die. Watching it happen is honestly pretty interesting, which feels very cruel to say. You just see them swarming around the little plastic rectangle of poison and know that everything will go as planned, and then you do an evil villain laugh. Maybe I truly am a villain.
When I saw one ant crawling on top of the bait packet after the rest of them had died, and the liquid had become black with the corpses of the ants, the sadness of it all really struck me. He’d lost all his friends, and in mourning them, he’d gone for the bait himself. Then a couple days later, the process started again.
Observing this makes me feel like I’m watching some kind of interactive performance art. The reason the science of ant traps is so fascinating is because of the ants themselves, and the brilliant way that they work. If it weren’t for them, humans—including me—wouldn’t be able to kill them. Isn’t that evil of us? Still, I find myself filming it on my phone with fascination. (I will not be sharing those videos for fear that I will be painting myself as an unhygienic person whose home attracts bugs.)
Sometimes I think that’s the way the world treats us as creatives. It gives us marketing statistics and algorithms and, well, the need to make money, and we flock to data points, techniques and rigid schedules in order to thrive, all while killing our true creativity. Maybe we’re all just dead ants floating in liquid poison.
Maybe that’s why we don’t build community the way ants do. Maybe we think that if we band together, this machine will somehow crush us all. But we’re wrong to think that way. I know we are. We need community. Maybe I’m also wrong for trying to make myself the victim here, when I’m just a human killing ants.
Perhaps I’m doing all this self-reflection because my birthday’s coming up (shameless segue, I know). I’m turning 32 in two days, so I was going to write a “32 things I learned in 32 years” post. But…32 is a lot. I probably have learned 32 lessons but they’re not all poetic, and I can’t remember all of them, and I’m not even sure if someone would want to read all of that.
So here are just a few things I’ve learned:
The best friendships come along when you have hard conversations.
Pay attention to how you feel after spending time with a person.
Journaling is good. You should journal.
Looking back at old journal entries can be a refreshing experience. So often, you won’t even remember who you were writing these things about (if you didn’t use names), or at the very least, you will realize you hadn’t thought about these people or issues in quite a while.
Being hard on yourself isn’t going to help you improve.
Nothing is going to be enjoyable all the time, but you shouldn’t spend time on things that are never enjoyable.
If you can’t make a decision, look at the actions you’ve already taken, or the actions you haven’t taken. Your brain may have made the decision for you, and you just have to lean into that decision. Long ago, I was told there was a study that concluded that our brains have already made decisions before we’re aware of it, but don’t quote me on that or ask me for a link or anything.
There is great comfort in being understood.
Cats remain elite.
People on the Internet are observant of exactly what you don’t want them to be observant of.
Sometimes when you’re worried about someone judging you for something, you’re judging yourself for that thing.
Other times, that person truly is judgmental.
And other times, still, you’ve just had bad experiences that cause you to be hyperaware of what others may think of you. I wish there was an easy way to tell the difference between those.
Warning: I’m about to quote The Office like a typical millennial. You know that one Andy Bernard quote, “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them”? I’ve decided that the key to that is to just always assume you’re in them. Worst case scenario, you look back and think, “Wow, I didn’t realize life could get even better.”
As always, thanks for reading!
XOXO,
Zola
Happy almost birthday!!