Hanging by Her Fingernails

This morning, i looked out the kitchen window to see a big, fat gray squirrel squirming on the squirrel-proof bird feeder. Aha! i thought. I'm going to give that squirrel a good scare.

I quietly opened the door, but the squirrel didn't run away. I walked right up to the bird feeder, and still the squirrel squirmed--and cried. Then i saw that it had one finger caught in the bird feeder. Every time she moved, her finger caused her more pain.

I got a screwdriver and put on leather work gloves. I faced the squirrel who quieted down and stared at me. Was she ready to meet her Maker? Or could she feel my good intentions? I pried the feeding gate off the bird feeder. Still, the squirrel was stuck, hanging by one fingernail.

I peered more closely to see the cause of the problem. Then, suddenly, she was free, and she bounded off.

We too are caught in the pain of stress and distress. We try to think our way through our problem, get caught in the story, and only cause ourselves more distress.

Even when we have the tool for our release close at hand, our little hands are still grasping for something we desire.

Then we drop the desire and are free. Free to live our own wild and precious life.

Lacewings

The lacewing is a beneficial insect that eats aphids. I particularly love the lacewings' diaphanous green fairy wings.

The larvae of the lacewing pile the sucked dry aphid carcasses on to their backs to disguise themselves from being prey to larger insects. What if we piled on to ourselves our flakes of dead skin, our fingernail parings, and the remains of our dinners?

Lacewing larva, covered with aphid carcasses

These things, which we once called "mine," are no longer mine. My fingernails: cut and gone. My hair becomes stray hairs on the pillow or in the sink and are no longer mine. The food we eat is, 24 hours later, flushed down the toilet. It was "me" a minute ago, and now it is not.

We could carry all this detritus around with us. Or we could realize that our entire body, as stable as it seems, is constantly in motion--breath, blood, digestion. Although we can feel the motion in the breath and in our pulse, we still feel fairly stable. Meanwhile, everything is changing.

I love the lacewing, which, having gone through its metamorphosis, appears to be light as air.