Theyyyyyy'rrrrrre baaaaaack. As things have started to warm up in St Louis, the centipedes have reemerged in our apartment. I've seen two in the past 24-hours alone: one scampering across the dining room floor and another on the bathroom wall. They're not uncommon in our home: on walls, and counters, and ceilings, and even in my bath towel. During their peak season, I see one or two a week -- if not more. Let me tell you, they startle me and freak me out every time! All of their little legs and the way they move sends shivers down my spine! They're also incredibly fast and this adds nothing positive to my experience of them. Never have I thought, "That thing gives me the creeps. If only it moved much faster!"
I have killed many centipedes in my lifetime using all kinds of implements of destruction, and I can say that I have felt bad about it. Centipedes freak me out but I also know how harmless they are to humans. I am 200x larger than a house centipede and they are incredibly fragile, legs falling off with a gentle brush. They also lack any meaningful venom for humans, so there is no worry about a nasty bite. In many ways, house centipedes are just trying to get by and do what they do best: eat other bugs. Likely other bugs that I do not want in my home. In this way, centipedes are our friends.
And yet I do not like them. Everything about them gives me a deep ick feeling that has left me Googling whether hypnosis is a real and effective treatment for phobias. I dislike them so much! But I also know that my fear of them is exactly that: my fear. They are harmless little creatures and yet I respond to them out of my fundamental misunderstanding about them. I act out of fear. Not from a place of self-protection, and certainly not out of compassion.
So, in the past 24-hours, having encountered two of these little creepy-crawly nightmare creatures, I have done the impossible: I've let them go. That's right, I just let them keep on truckin'. I let them live and made the choice to co-exist with them.
I made this choice not because of some kind of temporary insanity, as you might be suspecting, but out of a genuine effort to not react out of my own limited and flawed perceptions. When I see centipedes, I do not see them as they are. I see my fear. I have become conditioned to fear them even when they mean me no harm. They simply exist and I respond with violence.
We do this often in our lives. We see the world through our own, habituated perspective, and it's often how we cause harm. We make judgements about the world – people, places, other cultures, objects, and more – and we mistake our judgements for the way the world is. We think we see the world when what we're looking at is a reflection of ourselves.
Few would judge me for killing a bug that I find in my home, but do I have the right to take their life? I am less certain than I once was, and I think that lack of certainty is a sign of a heart that's begun to open. Because if I can practice kindness and compassion towards centipedes, truly anything is possible.
This piece was originally shared in my monthly newsletter in April 2025