Dr. Bronner’s Zen Mastery

When I went to bed at midnight, all was well. But by 8am I had the million ant march from the back door across the kitchen to the garbage and the cat’s bowl. The lines on the throw rug are unmistakable even without my contact lenses – double and triple lines of ants, swarming across the floor, then doubling back hurriedly to deliver captured food to the nest. I can’t imagine the Ant Queen is satisfied with Oggy’s kidney formula kibble for geriatric kiddies. No sir, she’ll prefer egg yolk-soaked turkey skin from my garbage over kitty food. As would my kitty. (And as would I.)

Dealing with the ants is an annual rite of summer. Like fresh corn on the cob and frosty dripping Popsicles (both of which attract the ants of course). But over the years I’ve learned a few things about dealing with ants. Traps don’t work. And the mass slaughter with pesticide is smelly and could make kitty sick. So now I use Dr. Bronner’s Eucalyptus Castille Soap.

Learning about Dr. Bronner’s was like being let in on a counter-culture secret. The coworker who told me about it was the same one who referred me to my acupuncturist. The same one who said a daily teaspoon of apple cider vinegar would keep me from getting sick. And this year I learned that Dr. Bronner’s was the organic soap of choice in the bathhouse at the Tassajara Buddhist monastery. These endorsements mean you definitely won’t find Dr. Bronner in the Sunday paper coupons, or on eye-level shelves at Safeway. I half imagined this stuff being peddled to stoners at Burning Man from the back of a dusty station wagon, or to hippies in Haight-Ashbury.

The Dr. Bronner’s label is crammed with tiny writing. A careful study in the proper light reveals a dizzying weave of semi-Christian “All-are-One” scripture.

God bless the persecuted! They alone are his chosen people!…

Moving along the label randomly…

God has not promised skies always blue, flower-strewn pathways all our lives through. Warning! Keep out of eyes! Flush with water!

I once showed a friend the tiny written Bible verse on the bottom of the In-N-Out Burger cup. She was so upset by this she didn’t think she could eat there again. It’s too bad that religion is often wholly discarded due to the lives taken in its name.

I can’t imagine Pine Sol or some mainstream Proctor & Gamble cleanser having such verses on its labeling. Then again, that’s a poor example since we all know that Proctor and Gamble funnels their profits to the Church of Satan. (Just kidding, I know that’s an urban legend, please don’t sue me. Seriously, it was a joke. Please rein in your lawyers and dark majicks!)

The first of the Buddhist Precepts is the vow not to kill, which arguably includes ants. A shame, since squishing two million ants with just your thumb is probably a wonderfully zen practice. It’s much easier to spray them with Dr. Bronner’s wonderful soap.

I don’t see any reference on the label to its use as a natural pesticide. But sure enough, spray the diluted soap on ants and they wander about slowly then keel over.

Yet again, an instrument of peace is the instrument of death. Sorry, but happiness is a clean kitchen.