Spring has sprung in southern Oregon and the wasps are dancing under the eaves. While I had planned to discuss the possibility of insects sustaining the ever-growing human population, I recently remembered a wasp story from my travels in New Zealand. I may post about bugs as food later on, but in the meantime, you can check out Megan Miller’s TED Talk about insects as a food source here.
This is from a weekly email I sent to family and friends while traveling. I was living and working on a pear orchard in Motueka at the time, located in the northern coastal region of the South Island:
A few out-of-the-ordinary events have occurred, one of which I have to share because it is probably the freakiest phenomenon I have ever discovered in the natural world. For a few days I had heard a whining buzz near the sink in the kitchen and eventually discovered the source: a black bee-like insect hanging out on the over-sink water heater. There is a transparent gauge running up the front of the tank displaying the amount of water inside, which showed it was about half-full. Upon closer examination, the bee seemed to be covering a small, square opening near the top of the gauge with yellowish mud-like "stuff." I was a bit weirded out by this invasion, so I grabbed the noisy bee with an oven mitt and put her outside.
I then studied the yellowish square and thought that maybe the bee was making a home there. I didn't know what I might find inside, but some dark curiosity overcame me and I began to unblock the hole to take a peek... until I unearthed a black, hairy leg poking out of a corner. I backed away, though I wasn't sure if I had imagined this or not. I didn't really want to surprise a bee and get stung (I am one of those people who reacts badly, puffing up like a blowfish).
Still, I wasn't done experimenting, so I decided to implement a more indirect course of action. When the water heater is filled, the gauge directly fills with it; my plan was to unblock the yellow seal on top of the gauge by slowly filling the tank, thereby avoiding direct contact with whatever was inside. I turned on the water and watched as it began to creep up the gauge (I proceeded cautiously so there wouldn’t be an explosion out of the hole in the top).
Despite my care, this still happened. The water flow stopped briefly before all the contents of the nest came spewing out at once. Some of it went into my hair, which is horrible, considering what was inside.
Spiders. Intact, adult orb web spiders (Eriophora pustulosa).
I expected maybe some more bees or pupae, but not this. They were not enclosed in any casing or nibbled on... they all appeared freshly-dead. Many of them were a green, shimmering color with long back legs. I learned I had disturbed the nest of a mason wasp (of the family Eumeninae), a species native to New Zealand. They make a whining sound as they process the nesting material (mud) and are sort of black in color.
Why all the dead spiders? Well first of all, they weren't dead.
Yeah.
They were alive, but unable to move having been paralyzed by the mama wasp. It gets better: she places the immobile spiders in various compartments of her nest, each housing an egg (often placed under the skin or directly on the spider(s)). When her eggs hatch, the larvae begin to eat the spiders, starting with the non-vital bits in order to keep them alive and fresh for as long as possible. This behavior of stockpiling food is known as mass provisioning.
Had I experienced this story without any knowledge of science or understanding of the natural world, I might think that this wasp was pure evil, possessed by some kind of sick demon. From a human perspective, it seems pretty messed up for a living creature to be eaten alive while paralyzed.
But if this process isn't amazing, I don't know what is. This creature has evolved to survive in this unique way on a planet where food is uncertain. I'm fortunate to live in an age where information is so readily available that I can actually look up this phenomenon and figure out what is going on.
We can all explore the world right in front of our eyes between the tools of science and a willingness to understand that everything in nature has a niche. For an observation to be written off as "too wondrous for mortal understanding" would do this planet a great disservice, as lack of understanding leads to uninformed decisions that harm life, human or otherwise. At the same time, to assume that something that seems "evil” to humans--like being paralyzed and eaten alive--is also “evil” by nature, would also be misled.
May we all reflect on our own niche: the part we play in the environment in which we live, with the resources we have, and appreciate the wonder that is all around us without rash judgement.
From September 2008 to June 2009 I attended massage school and shortly thereafter received a license to practice in the state of Oregon. It was the best life decision I have ever made for several reasons: I acquired a skill that enables me to make money while attending college. My awareness of my body and my health was heightened, deeply impacting my overall well-being. I learned how stress and pain can negatively impact one’s life and I gained the tools to relieve stress and pain in others. I memorized in detail almost every muscle and every bone of the human body and was taught the specific qualities of connective tissues and how to physically heal them. Lastly, I developed a passion for assessing, treating, researching and appreciating the complex structure (anatomy) and amazingly intricate function (physiology) of the human body.
My kinesiology (the study of movement) instructor was particularly influential. He began each session with simple movements (Chi Gong) with the intention of helping the class calm our nervous energy, open our joints and bring our awareness to our bodies. Although these exercises lasted only five to ten minutes, I recall that it improved my learning capabilities, helping me to focus on the muscles we were palpating and memorizing that day (and importantly, to retain this information). His knowledge about muscle tissue, movement, synergism and antagonism, structure, posture, injury and healing was astounding and inspiring.
When I learned that he offered private Kung Fu lessons, I asked whether we could start as soon as school was out. In the following months, he taught me how to find my center of gravity and focus my attention on my body by practicing various Monkey Kung Fu stances, walks, kicks, punches and movement patters. We stretched, we meditated, we breathed, we moved. It was an amazing experience, one that I will never forget, and was also by far the most physically challenging exercise I have ever done.
It was also mentally challenging.
He asked me one day, while sitting on the grass, to bring my attention to my spine. I was not sure how to do that, because as far as I knew, I never had. Maybe I hadn’t thought about it before. Maybe I didn’t think it was possible. Feel my spine? Isn’t it just... there? He told me that just as you can tune in to the breath simply by becoming more aware of it, you can tune in to the spine, feeling space open between the vertebrae as you breathe, and tracking the movement as it travels through the bones from base to crown.
He guided me patiently, suggesting I start by aligning my hips over my sitz bones (if you are sitting now, you can feel them against your seat). After making sure the hips are rotated neither forward (making the lumbar spine, or low back, curve) or nor backward (as would be the case while slouching), he said, guide your attention to the sacrum (the upside-down triangle at the base of the spine). Gently move the hips once from side to side. Allow the side-to-side movement to travel up the spine to your the base of the skull, all the while imagining a string coming out of the top of your head, drawing you upwards.
Why do this? Why take time to become aware of the body? Or the breath? Why stretch, move, meditate? Although some of what I've said so far may reek of “woo,” I am posting about it today because there are compelling, scientifically validated benefits to practices like yoga and meditation.
Some I mentioned above, such as enhanced learning and memory, decreased pain, better ability to pay attention, lower levels of stress and increased quality of life (happiness). But it doesn’t stop there. These practices are known to help depression, anxiety disorders and insomnia, aid in emotional regulation, boost the ability to take different perspectives (empathy and compassion) and even slow down age-related decline. According to neuroscientist Sara Lazar, the underlying mechanism behind such changes is neuroplasticity (basically, the capability of the brain to change). When we perform meditative or yogic activities, our neurons communicate in unique ways that bring about these benefits which can be measured via detectable amounts of gray matter in various areas of the brain measured by MRI.
To me, this is incredibly cool! By taking time every day to bring mindfulness to the body, whether by stretching or focusing awareness on the breath (or meditating on an image or feeling), I am building up “brain muscles” to help me navigate difficult situations, learn something interesting faster, balance my emotions and have more compassion towards others. The easiest way, if all of this is new to you, is to simply close your eyes and breathe, feeling the air moving in and out of the mouth, nose, throat and lungs.
You know one other way to become more aware of the body? Get a massage. If you can’t afford it, ask an independent therapist if they are willing to do a trade (surely there is some skill you can offer him/her). Trade massages with your partner. Give and receive foot or hand massages with family members. Get your cat to walk on your shoulders. Touch has many benefits as well, but that is for another post. Science "has your back" in this case, and plus, it feels amazing.
