I Felt Worthless. Then I Met a Six-Legged Guru.
What a June bug taught me about identity, worthlessness, and the size of a miracle.
Danger
He was drowning.
The weight of a paperclip. Legs going in every direction, all six of them.
I offered my finger. He held. I carried him from the pool to the grass and set him down and said, “Have a good life, friend.”
He’s not the first June bug I’ve plucked from my swimming pool. But he’s the first to save me back.
Worthlessness
That night, I’d been struggling.
Writing.
This very post.
A small thing.
That felt like a huge thing.
I couldn’t find the right clump of pixels to tap onto this screen. Every idea felt wrong. Every draft hollow.
I sat in my office—the one I designed with Byrontology in mind, carefully mismatched chairs, a sturdy table, a room to say something meaningful happens here.
And nothing was happening but my computer laughing at me.
I felt worthless.
Identity Collapse
I have a performance-based identity.
My therapist says as kids, some of us learn that we only have value when we perform. Look presentable. Get good grades. Behave.
And when the performance stalls—when the book hasn’t sold, when the idea for the latest post isn’t coming, when the hair isn’t behaving—self-worth can evaporate.
It’s called identity collapse.
I’m very familiar. I was Mr. Catholic until I realized there was no place for gay people in the church. I was a TV journalist until I burned out. I was a movie star’s assistant until I quit and became nobody again. I was young and healthy and got cancer. I had long hair and cut it off and felt immediately less cool.
I have Byrontology, but can’t finish a post.
Illusion
I stepped outside. Stared at my office. Embarrassed. Too hard on myself for not getting the job done. Too hard on myself for being too hard on myself.
June bugs were throwing themselves at lights. And at least one June bug threw himself into the swimming pool.
Maybe he was also chasing a light. A reflection of a light. Chasing an illusion.
Drowning. Little legs getting no traction. Spinning in circles.
Help
For relief, I try not to reinvent the wheel. Philosophers have addressed this across the ages. The problem of self, identity, meaninglessness.
Kierkegaard was no help.
Nietzsche, no.
Camus, I just can’t imagine Sisyphus happy pushing his boulder up the hill again and again and again.
Instead, the most helpful advice came from the most unlikely guru.
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Deeper confessions, revelations, and resolutions not for public.