The Ant Invasion

The Ant Invasion

I had some uninvited and unwelcome guests in my studio this week. Late Saturday night, I opened the door to the studio and flipped on the light to find THOUSANDS of ants. Most were flying around the lights, but there was also a steady stream of much smaller ants advancing toward me as I entered the room. The walls and floor were covered in winged ants. I’m not ashamed to say that I screamed, hurriedly closed the studio door and ran through the house in a panic looking for bug spray.

I repeated the words, “Oh no, oh no. What do I do?” trying to remember where my husband, Rob, keeps the insecticides. Rob was asleep. My first thought was to wake him, but he had worked a 12-hour day and I didn’t want to disturb him.

I circled all the usual storage places several times, my mind unable to focus fully. I felt ants crawling on my legs and hurriedly brushed them off. Finally, I located a jug of the spray we use for the outside perimeter. “Could this be used inside, too?” I wondered, squinting at the label.

I put on a pair of my husband’s shoes that were stashed nearby, oversized though they were. There was no time to waste. I needed to get into that room before the ants were in every drawer, in every cubby, in every nook and cranny of my art sanctuary.

I sprayed the floor generously, opening one of the windows to dispel any fumes. I sprayed the walls. I swatted flying ants on my desk. I moved all of my journals, my pens, and my studio yearbook to a safer location.

Then, iPad in hand, I left the studio again, closing the door behind me. I googled flying ants. I read all about how they can be confused with termites. The pictures I found confirmed they were ants, as if all the little marchers on the floor hadn’t confirmed it already. From what I read, it seems that I stumbled into an ant mating ritual. They were spawning - ready to expand the colony. It's just unfortunate they decided my studio was a good place to do that. I love nature, but I do have limits. Ants belong outside.

After a few minutes of reading, I finally started to calm down a bit. Looking through the glass doors of my studio, I could see that most of the motion had ceased. My extermination efforts had left thousands of carcasses in its wake. I finally went to bed at 1am, thankful that the ant invasion was limited to my studio. I left my husband a message about what happened since I knew he would be awake early. I hoped he might be able to determine where the ants had come in and help me prevent this from happening again.

The next day, I faced the clean up. The good news is that my studio is cleaner than it has been in months. All the dust bunnies and stray paper cuttings tidied and trashed. The floor got a nice mopping, too.

I never expected anything like this to happen in my studio. It is a fairly new space, an add-on to our house in 2014. We’ve had issues with various types of bugs in other parts of our old house before - stink bugs, ants in the kitchen (though not this many), the occasional spider or millipede in the shower. So I started to wonder if this event had some significance. Did nature enter the sanctuary of my studio to send me a message?

I have a deck of animal oracle cards called the Spirit Animal Oracle, by Colette Baron-Reid, so I decided to take a look. Sure enough, Ant Sprit is among the 68 cards in the deck.

The message of the Ant Spirit card? Time to collaborate. The message hit home. I realized that I’ve been struggling with the next stage of this journey I’m on. The part where I need to connect with other people. To get my work out into the world. I’ve been dragging my feet on sending that first email pitch to a company who may want to license my work. I’ve been hesitant about sharing on social media. I’ve been concentrating on all of the things that I can do alone because I haven’t wanted to face trusting the fate of my work to other people. I realize now that I’ve come as far as I can without others. It’s time to reach out, collaborate, and pitch my work. Needless to say my introverted, sensitive artist self is less than thrilled.

I’d much rather embark on a new class, buy another sketchbook, or spend more time at my art table creating. But, I’ve received this message loud and clear. I’m just sorry that I needed to destroy a colony of ants to receive it.

I share this story and my insights in the hopes that it helps you recognize the messages that life is sending your way, though I hope your messages are far less dramatic. :) Is there something you need to see? Or something you’ve been avoiding? What mysteries can the signs from the universe help you solve?