Going Backwards Could Be Beautiful
Last weekend, my family and I ventured up to the Appalachian Mountains to witness the mesmerizing Blue Ghost Fireflies. This year, we’ve been on a firefly kick, with plans to see the synchronized fireflies next week.
Our host for this event wasn’t a corporation but a woman who opened her home — her deck and backyard — for the three weeks the fireflies were abundant and mating. We had never met before this night. She was inviting strangers to her house to celebrate the beauty in nature she loved. She had created a little haven for people who sought out nature’s wonders.
Upon arrival, the owner greeted us warmly, her enthusiasm for the fireflies and the natural world palpable. She welcomed us with lemonade and an invitation to make ourselves at home. It was a charming reminder that wonderful experiences often come from stepping off the beaten path.
This woman, clearly also a gifted neurodivergent, was deeply passionate about her hobby venture and began a college-level lecture about the Blue Ghost Fireflies. She was an adorable mix of Olive Oyl meets the girl next door. Her passion was evident as she shared her extensive knowledge, even preparing a little test to engage us in the learning experience with prizes going to those who scored highest. My 14-year-old daughter filled out the name part of the test with a simple smiley face, not seeking recognition or praise, despite knowing all the answers. It was a reminder that brilliance is content to engage in the joy of learning without the need for external validation. Her doing this allowed her little sister to win.
As the woman continued her presentation, it was clear this was her special interest and passion. She shared stories of finding larvae, photographing the intricate flight patterns in her yard, and the countless hours dedicated to studying these creatures. Her enthusiasm was lovely, drawing us into her world, and sharing the joy she derived from it.
Everyone there was a kindred spirit — the outliers who find each other by creating little havens in our corner of the world. It was a community of quirky, brilliant minds, each with unique passions and perspectives. In a society that often marginalizes and misunderstands those who devote their lives to their passions, this was a rare and precious space where they could be celebrated for their differences and valued for their contributions.
As I stood there, surrounded by the beauty of the mountains and the glow of the Blue Ghost Fireflies, I felt a profound sense of loss. I remembered a time when people like this woman were more common — the passionate experts in museums, the quirky professors who could bring a subject to life, the brilliant minds that made learning an adventure. But somewhere along the way, we lost sight of the value of these individuals. We pushed them to the margins, dismissing their passions as mere eccentricities and their brilliance as a liability.
What will life be like for my children? Today, when you find your passion and try to go into it, you are met with disbelief and dismissal. It was a stark reminder of how far we have strayed from appreciating and nurturing the incredible diversity of the human mind. We’ve created a world that prizes conformity over creativity, that values sameness over uniqueness, and in doing so, we’ve lost something precious.
Perhaps I am looking at it wrong. Perhaps we are simply the first to leave and make our own versions of what we want it to be. We struggle with the crowds, with the hoopla and fanfare of most organized events. I need these small events so I can focus and relax. They have all but disappeared.
Perhaps the future will see a collapse of the extremes of public and private. We will open up our private lives to community and shut down the overwhelming public displays our society has made everything into. Perhaps we are going backwards to spaces like this. Schools and museums will get smaller. People will have to do more to find them, but the interactions will be quieter and closer. This could be a good thing. Maybe we will find a future where passionate people can thrive and share their gifts with the world. Maybe we can learn to appreciate the beauty and value of minds that think differently, that see the world through a unique lens. There is hope that we can build a society that celebrates the full spectrum of human intelligence and creativity.
The entire experience was as close to spiritual as I can get. It was fun to imagine what it was like to be someone who did not know that these were “just” bugs but saw them rather as fairies or spirits. They came down in waves from the mountain. Some of them flew in spirals, others straight and true. Each was the size of a grain of rice, and yet that part was lost. Each was something enchanting, and they were coming to visit you.
