Teachings from a Praying Mantis

For three days, I had an ascended master of stillness living on my butterfly bush.

She surprised me as I was watering my gardens when, suddenly, she slowly emerged from the leaves of the bush—because they don’t do anything quickly—covered in water from my garden hose. I immediately apologized for giving her an unexpected bath. But after watching her a bit, it seemed she actually enjoyed the cleansing. She didn’t seem bothered by the experience at all. Nor did she express any fear. Instead, she simply leaned into the experience that life had served up.

And then she stayed. For three days. Each day, we continued to greet and connect with each other. My intention was to remain open and aligned with her teachings and the higher purpose of our divine encounter.

Of course, the praying mantis has long been associated with prayer, stillness, patience, contemplation, and intuition. As I spent some time with her, I sensed all of these qualities, and she became something much more personal to me: a Buddha-like master teacher of stillness.

As we connected soul-to-soul, I felt drawn into a teaching I have been wanting to deepen in my own daily practice: stilling my mind and living with gratitude in the present moment more frequently. In full transparency, being fully present without the constant buzz of thoughts eludes me more often than not. Yet as I watched this beautiful being each day, I had the distinct feeling that she really wanted me to get this teaching.

It began that first evening when I went to bed and my mind did one of its normal things. It got busier. And busier. Suddenly, I was very clear about all the problems in the world that apparently needed solving before I could sleep.

But then I decided to simply be. I noticed the texture of my pillow and the support of the mattress beneath me. I took slow, comfortable breaths and felt gratitude for the simple experience of being there in that moment. I decided that if I didn’t fall asleep right away, that would be okay, too. There was no need to worry about not getting enough sleep or continuously calculate how long I might lie there before finally drifting off.

Something happened that I didn’t anticipate. I actually enjoyed simply being comfortable in my bed in a completely new way. And, ironically, I fell asleep much faster than usual.

I didn’t forget the experience the next day. Instead, I decided to create what I began calling my “present-moment project”—an intentional practice of believing in my ability to still my mind and in-joy more moments without constantly thinking about the past or worrying about the future. Go figure.

Some teachings we must try to surrender into repeatedly for decades before they finally become a practice. So, I am eternally grateful to the smiling praying mantis.

Nature is one of our greatest teachers, if we are willing to listen. Every encounter carries the potential for wisdom, reflection, and deeper connection. The teachings are always there—in the animals, the trees, the seasons, the smallest encounters—waiting for us to become present enough to see and receive them.

This time, apparently, my teacher arrived on a butterfly bush and arrived at just the right time to help me to embody living in the present moment.