Obsession is like a moth to the flame.

The creature can't help it. It sees the light and draws toward it, even to its own detriment. Not quite like Icarus—there's no arrogance here. The moth doesn't fly too close out of hubris. It simply cannot override the pull. Something deep within compels it toward the light, even knowing it may burn.

Sometimes this is what obsession feels like to me.

When I fixate on something, I find myself completely engrossed for hours—thinking of nothing but how to move it forward. Excited, happy, fully alive in the pursuit. Call it ADHD hyperfixation or call it passion; the label matters less than the experience. I've learned over the years how to manage it better, how to not let the flame consume everything else. But the pull is still there. And honestly? I don't look at it negatively. There's something beautiful about being drawn so completely to something.

the spiritual lens

The Bahá'í writings use the moth and flame as a metaphor for spiritual advancement—the soul's yearning for the divine. Bahá'u'lláh writes:

"The everlasting Candle shineth in its naked glory. Behold how it hath consumed every mortal veil. O ye moth-like lovers of His light! Brave every danger, and consecrate your souls to its consuming flame."

The call isn't to avoid the flame—it's to consecrate yourself to it. To brave every danger. The burning is real. The death of the self is real. But it's a death in service of becoming something more—the dissolving of "every mortal veil" to reveal what's underneath.

the duality

But here's the tension: not every flame is divine.

Some obsessions do burn us in ways that leave us worse off—dropped priorities, neglected relationships, bodies pushed past their limits. The same force that can be a spiritual pursuit can also be self-destruction dressed up as passion.

So the work isn't avoiding obsession. The work is discernment.

Which flames are worth the burn? Which ones pull you toward something transcendent, and which are just... fire? The dying of the self can be a spiritual journey—or it can just be dying. The trick is learning to tell the difference.

Maybe that's the real practice: not suppressing the moth, but teaching it which flame to follow.