When I got up this morning, I had every intent of writing a post about my new friend "Doubt." It was going to be a rather heavy post with some "deep thoughts" and such.
That's not going to happen here (Not today, at least. I don't make any promises for two weeks from now!)
Today's not a day for "heavy" or "deep." Rather, it's a day for gentle, joy-filled reminders about paths A ladybug's path, to be precise.
Thirty minutes ago, I came back inside from letting Tyra Banks out for her late afternoon poop and pee (the dog, not the supermodel). When I came back, I noticed that there was a black ladybug on my hand. S/he was just sitting there. Happy as could be.
"Oh, you poor thing," I said, "you don't want to be in here. Let me take you back outside."
Ladybug stayed put on my hand as we made our wall up the hallway. My mind filled with compassion for this quite deliberate act of kindness of returning him/her to his/her natural habitat (it's so confusing, this ladybug gender identification!). Then, with absolutely no notice, Ladybug flew off to a spot next to an air vent that was beyond my reach and far from any door or window.
"Suit yourself," I harrumphed out loud, shaking my head at how some of us just don't want to be shown the way. Out of our cages. Into the fresh air. I mean, we all know such people (and bugs), right?
Then, as I stood there looking at Ladybug chilling out by the air vent, I started laughing. At my own arrogance. Who am I to know what that particular Ladybug's path is?
Maybe that Ladybug wasn't looking to go back outside. Not today.
Maybe s/he had something to learn. Inside.
And for that, maybe Ladybug needed only a short lift. Today.
Not from A to Z, but simply A to B. Maybe, just maybe, fothat was enough.
That's not going to happen here (Not today, at least. I don't make any promises for two weeks from now!)
Today's not a day for "heavy" or "deep." Rather, it's a day for gentle, joy-filled reminders about paths A ladybug's path, to be precise.
Thirty minutes ago, I came back inside from letting Tyra Banks out for her late afternoon poop and pee (the dog, not the supermodel). When I came back, I noticed that there was a black ladybug on my hand. S/he was just sitting there. Happy as could be.
"Oh, you poor thing," I said, "you don't want to be in here. Let me take you back outside."
Ladybug stayed put on my hand as we made our wall up the hallway. My mind filled with compassion for this quite deliberate act of kindness of returning him/her to his/her natural habitat (it's so confusing, this ladybug gender identification!). Then, with absolutely no notice, Ladybug flew off to a spot next to an air vent that was beyond my reach and far from any door or window.
"Suit yourself," I harrumphed out loud, shaking my head at how some of us just don't want to be shown the way. Out of our cages. Into the fresh air. I mean, we all know such people (and bugs), right?
Then, as I stood there looking at Ladybug chilling out by the air vent, I started laughing. At my own arrogance. Who am I to know what that particular Ladybug's path is?
Maybe that Ladybug wasn't looking to go back outside. Not today.
Maybe s/he had something to learn. Inside.
And for that, maybe Ladybug needed only a short lift. Today.
Not from A to Z, but simply A to B. Maybe, just maybe, fothat was enough.
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