I recently experienced a morning that I had to get somewhere in a hurry — a common occurrence for all of us, I am sure. This necessitated the proverbial “mad rush.” I paid absolutely no attention to my immediate surroundings — with the exception of looking presentable. I was focused on my goal. Everything appeared to be a mere blur as it passed by. In the foreground was a long light that “I had to make” if I were to be on time. The gods were against me, however. The light shone a dull red as I approached the junction. It was as if to say, “Stop: catch the moment.”
Just as my irritation began to come into full bloom, I happened to glance at the front of my motocha. There is a small space between the wind cowling (1) and the actual scooter. From this opening, a tiny spider appeared. She began to feverishly, and rather boldly, I thought, build a web – a web, no less! She was, quite discernibly, oblivious to my travails and frustrations. I fully expected a fly to be entrapped in her silk snare. I didn’t miss the point. Nothing is truly important unless I make it important. The small arachnid had her own mission to fulfill that day. Which is the more important? Hers, I would say. Without food, she would die: their world being rather tragically bereft of 7-11.
One must be attuned to these reflective moments in life, I feel. I am not willing to label anything as spiritual, but there certainly does seem to be “magic in the air,” if you are open to receive it. A small story: the other day, I was off to give a presentation. Being naturally shy and by definition filled with self-doubt, I was apprehensive, to say the least. I have spoken publically many times, but I am always filled with dread before I speak. This is a very common experience, I am told. Regardless, each of us lives in our own thoughts. Just as I was allowing my anxiety to proceed with its given twists and turns, a magnificent butterfly appeared. Now butterflies are not a common sight on the traffic-laden streets of our city, so this was a rare phenomenon. She would not seem to leave me alone. She would make these large concentric circles and then return to me and flutter next to my helmet. I took this, of course, as a positive omen: imagined or real. It didn’t matter.
The talk subsequently went well. As a corollary to this story, I had read in the morning that butterflies cannot see their own wings and, therefore, never see their own beauty. This is sadly not true, but it makes for a great thought: most people cannot see the beauty inside them. So the next time you are in a “blind hurry,” try to catch a moment and reflect on the natural and miniscule magnificence around you. The great Russian author and playwright, Anton Chekhov (1860-1904), leaves us with a thought: Let us learn to appreciate there will be times when the trees will be bare, and look forward to the time when we may pick the fruit.
A closing thought: It is difficult to notice the little things around you: the bugs, the birds, and the bees, to name but a few. It is this lack of attention that is causing some well-placed concern. As a society, we are not remarking on the fact that our natural world is disappearing. (2) As we become more aware, our perception of Gaia, or Mother Earth, grows and this will, quite literally, “Save the world.” So the next time you kill anything small and annoying try to remember that it has an ecological place in our wonderful world. Together, I believe, if we each do our part, to paraphrase Winston Churchill (1874-1965), our Earth will be fine.
To sum up: This week we spoke about noticing the physical world around each of us and learning to appreciate its beauty.
A small joke: The past, the present and the future walked into a bar: the mood was tense.
Just for fun – Yanni tribute concierto completo
This week, on your peaceful walk, please watch for the little creatures “great and small.”
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: I must make my life harmonious with the universe.
Footnotes:
1) cowling