Midnight Moth Mayhem

“What has been hidden from you will now be revealed. Pay attention!”
-Moth

My husband thinks I’m nuts. That is not an anomaly. Hardly! It is a rather common occurrence around our house.
You see, I have a tendency to hear voices and see certain things that are just out of the range of most “normal” folks, much to the constant bewilderment of my husband. Most of my pronouncements, which I can admit are…bizarre, are met with a combination of head scratching wonder and abject disbelief. But if asked, I’m sure he would admit that it’s one of the things that makes our life together…interesting.

Case in point: Friday night I heard something flying around our bedroom in the dark, flapping its wings and bouncing off the walls. You know, just another Friday night at the Bertolus’. The next morning I asked him about it.

“Did you hear that thing flying around our bedroom last night?”

“Uh, no,” he said.

“Are you sure? It was loud.” I pressed.

“Loud like how?”

“I dunno. It sounded like wings flapping…”

“Wings flapping?”

“Yeah and then it kept hitting the wall or the ceiling, I guess it could have been both.”

“Like a bird?” He asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I’m surprised you and Ruby slept through it.”

Okay, that was a lie. Those two could sleep through the second coming, Gabriel’s horn blaring and all.
Still, I wondered (just for a minute) if I’d imagined it. But I knew I hadn’t. 

“Maybe it was a dream? He said. I knew that tone, he was humoring me, AGAIN.

“I did incorporate it into I dream,” I said. “It had to do with…oh, never mind.”

I knew it wasn’t a dream. Something had spent the better part of the night before flying clumsily around our bedroom, of THAT I was certain.

Cut to: Interior. Our bedroom — Midnight Saturday night.

I got up to do something, I can’t remember what it was, probably pee or put my hair in a ponytail when something caught my attention. As I opened the door, the bathroom light illuminated a moth. But not just any moth. This one was the size of my head with beautiful markings and a confused look on its face. How did it find its way inside our house? I wondered.

Obviously, it was too busy texting to pay attention to its own GPS and made a left turn instead of a right at the fountain.

“I found out what’s been flying around our room!” I exclaimed, flipping on all the overhead lights, of which there are about ten too many. (Keep that in mind when you remodel, don’t over do it. You don’t want them to be able to see your bedroom at night from space).

My husband and our dog both raised their heads and shot me the same exasperated expression.

“It’s a giant moth! Come look!” I squealed. I was doing a little dance. In my nightgown. With no make-up and my hair piled up on top of my head. The poor moth stared back, frozen in fear.

My husband, being the good sport that he is, stumbled out of bed and over to where I was stand/dancing. The dog stayed put. (Now I know who loves me more.)

“Holy Cow!” he said.
Not really. He would never say that. It was something more like Holy Shit! Or it was more likely he didn’t say anything at all, he just made the face of someone who’d had the misfortune of being woken up in the middle of the night to see a moth the size of a salad plate. You know, that face. Then he went back to bed.

Well, if you know me at all (and you know you do) I HAD to look up Moth Energy.
In a nutshell, they represent transformation and psychic abilities to hear and see things others can’t. What?! Well, that is just So me!

Here’s the article if you want to read further:

http://www.shamanicjourney.com/moth-power-animal-symbol-of-transformation

We tried to corral it and guide it outside but that was like herding a cat—with wings—so we just left it alone and went back to bed. Even though I’ve left the bathroom door open to give it a chance to escape, I heard it flapping around again on Sunday night only the flapping was less robust and I can’t find it anymore. It’s gotten stealthier the longer it’s stayed, but I can’t imagine something that large can stay hidden forever. Moths only live a week or two (I Googled it) so depending on its age (I’m guessing teenager) I suppose it’s going to take one last spin around our room tonight—and then die.

Or it could meet an untimely end at the hands of our ceiling fan.

Oh, Christ on a cracker what do you suppose THAT means? It can’t be good.
Never mind.
Carry on,
xox