Banishing Cockroaches: spirit animal or evil curse?

When a cockroach colony infiltrated our home, we found ourselves ensnared in an eighteen-month spiritual battle. Here is an overthinker's guide to what NOT to do.

As the long frozen months dragged on for a second winter, claustrophobia and paranoia wearied me in my own home… thanks to certain unwelcome guests who had long overstayed their visit in our apartment. With countless cracks in the floorboards, gaping holes under the sink, boxes upon boxes of art supplies, and all hand-built furniture full of cozy crevices… you could never guess from which hiding place the next cockroach would emerge.

Little brown German cockroaches are not the freakiest-looking pest; they even seemed cute at first. But for my husband and I—two DIY-fixer-upper-lovers and idealist artists—this unassuming insect proved a most formidable opponent. Utterly clueless to the ways we continued to make the extermination process more difficult for ourselves, we must now thank this insect spirit for coming to show us our many blindspots.

SPIRIT ANIMAL OR EVIL CURSE?

The common person usually thinks of their “spirit animal” as an embodiment of their dominant personality traits, of their ideal self-image, or even of their physical appearance. (“If I were an animal, I would be a giraffe because I’m tall, graceful, and vegetarian!” …or worse, simply going off an online quiz.) But if you look beyond mere identification, true spirit animals (or totems) come into your life at pivotal moments to teach you about your spiritual powers, to activate dormant parts of yourself, and to remind you of your place in the greater ecosystem of life. In some indigenous traditions, surviving a conflict with a wild animal is seen as a shamanic initiation (Ted Andrews, Animal Speak). In withstanding a display of the animal’s power, the initiate absorbs and has access to that power himself. You may not want to identify with a certain animal (particularly one with a negative reputation), but it may have much to teach you about yourself.

The following horror story is a series of wrong turns, but after everything this journey has taught me, I believe any significant pest infestation can be an invitation for spiritual growth. When you experience a territorial struggle in your home, it demands diligent awareness, right thinking and right action, emotional regulation, and every other spiritual tool at your disposal. To use the vocabulary with which I was raised, one could describe the infestation experience as a “demonic attack…” where malevolent or destructive forces come to challenge your character and strengthen your connection with the divine. One could also describe it as karma, delivering the consequences for an evil deed; or as the manifestation of someone’s ill intent, or black magick.

However, if this experience has taught me anything, it’s to keep taking responsibility. As without, so within… this infiltration of unwanted energies in my private sphere must reflect some belief or behaviour of mine (old or new) that is ready to be exterminated. But what, oh what, could that be?

For eighteen months, I questioned: What is wrong with my mindset that I’ve manifested this issue for myself? What is fundamentally wrong with my approach to things, that this is so difficult to resolve? What weak points is this revealing in my spiritual and physical foundation? And every time another cockroach would scurry out from the shadows, I would have a slightly different answer. I often felt a deep sense of inadequacy as I tried my best to level up in the “right” way. And yet, at the same time, all I could do was observe these stories I was telling myself, the pattern of self-talk that emerged with each cockroach sighting.

The labyrinthine experience was extremely revelatory and full of symbolic resonance. Kindly allow me to share the highlights with you, dear reader, to illustrate the most important lessons this tenacious species taught me. And I’ll let you decide whether the cockroach is a “spirit animal” you yourself can identify with.

INTRODUCING COCKROACHES: Essential Facts and Symbolism

Cockroaches are clever demons, masters of subtlety, and highly skilled at staying out of sight. Their presence points to your shadows, the parts of your psyche that lack self-awareness. Cockroaches are a notoriously resilient pest, representing those habits or thought patterns that are most tricky to get rid of, if left unchecked. A common misconception is that roaches are dirty, diseased, and dangerous. But the thing about cockroaches that makes them an uncontrollable houseguest is how fast they reproduce, making them a symbol of fertility. A female can lay up to 400 eggs in her yearlong lifetime, in eggsacs containing 30-40 eggs every 28 days, and both parents look after their young. Each new generation allows for genetic evolution, so the colony quickly adapts to its environment. Adaptability is a key quality of this creature. German cockroaches have an elaborate social structure involving social dependence, information transfer, and kin recognition—this makes them strong symbols of community. Individually, cockroaches have excellent memories and learning capacities. These insects are also built to survive extreme circumstances, and will eat just about anything. Cockroaches are one of the most ancient group of insects, dating to the Late Jurassic period, and they can survive a nuclear blast.

So how did this strange and magnificent beast come into my life, and grow into a many-headed hydra to be slain?

OUR STORY BEGINS…

Act One: THE TROJAN TELEPHONE

The cockroach colony’s grand entrance into our home was so poetic that my partner (Christopher) and I immediately recognized the event as a spiritual sign. Like many Montrealers, we often find high-quality secondhand furnishings abandoned on the sidewalk for scavenging neighbours to repurpose… and were usually street-smart about it. In September 2022, Christopher found an old rotary telephone abandoned on our street, and immediately imagined its second life as a colourfully painted ruelle installation where neighbouring kids could place a direct call to God.

For three days, the dead telephone sat on his worktable. When Christopher’s daughter Emerald came over, we all brainstormed how to bring it to life, scrubbed the thick grime off the surface, and discussed what bright colors should cover the eerie numbers written in dripping black paint. On the third night, we flicked on a light in the darkened room, and the entire tabletop around the phone seemed to be moving. Cockroaches of all sizes scattered in every direction as we suddenly realized what was happening. We squashed as many as we could find as they scurried between hiding places, and as the sleepless night went on, stragglers continued to emerge from the shadows. How could we know that this dramatic exodus was the beginning of an eighteen-month battle against the escaped buggers’ countless descendants?