By Emma Wrigley
It’s spring in Livingston Manor, and that means the ants are on the prowl. No matter that my apartment is on the second floor. The ants will come, and there’s very little I can do to stop them. After several weeks of ant traps and vinegar, I have made the decision that waging war on the ants is not actually worth the time or energy, and I’ve started to observe them, instead.
They’re rather remarkable creatures, these ants – relentless in their pursuit of nourishment, seamless in their community collaboration, and their work ethic would put even the most dedicated workaholics to shame. So far, this spring, they’ve managed to teach me quite a bit about flexibility. It turns out that the gorgeous daffodils that drew so many ants to my kitchen table look just as friendly and welcoming on my front porch instead. And those cashews I bought specifically for a recipe I’d planned to make next week? Well, once the ants got rinsed off, it was easy enough to put them in more water and soak them overnight to get turned into cashew cream the next day. Not only will the cream work for the intended recipe, but it will freeze beautifully and last for several months.
The ants have also brought home, again, a truth that has been a theme for me this past month: the importance of containment. Turns out the only sure-fire way to save my food from their tiny, devouring mouths and impeccable nourishment-radar is to properly contain it. If there is even the tiniest opening, you can bet your buttons there’ll be ants inside before you can blink. I find myself taking extra care with my food, now – where a rubber band would’ve sufficed in the winter, it’s now a band-and-a-bag-and-a-box. And it’s got me thinking…how much attention do I pay to my energetic container?
Shalom is a place where I’ve seen container building done very well. In coming together as a community with a commitment to skillful loving, we weave bonds that can hold amazing amounts of energy. So I understand how to go about building a container in a group of people. But what about individually? How do I contain my own energy field? Where are the holes that let the proverbial ants inside to leach away my life-force?
As I pay attention, and continue to watch the ants, I begin to find answers to these questions. Attention to my own nourishment is turning out to be a big part of my container. Eating well, sleeping well, and keeping to a schedule seems to offer me a structure within which I can flourish and grow. Spiritual practice is another component – sometimes a meditation practice, sometimes mantra, and lately dance, the discipline of spending time internally helps strengthen my connection to myself. After all, isn’t the basis of the container we build at Shalom love? I think it follows that the container within is based on self-love.
Inside of a strong container of self-love, I find I’m able to thrive, creatively and authentically; to show up as all of who I am with myself, which in turn spills out to others. And so I’m choosing to thank the ants, for all that they’ve taught me…and to ask them, respectfully, to please steer clear of my kitchen counters!












