The Lady Bug Rescue Mission
It was noon on a Thursday, at my desk-job in Raleigh, when I decided to take a walk to stretch my legs. I took mindful steps and some lunges as I made my way to the stairwell.
The day was gray and rainy but drops were not yet falling. I paused to peer out the window on the top floor before descending the steps to the exit. As I gazed out at the sky over the parking lot, I noticed a little red critter struggling to exit the building through the sealed window. A precious little lady bug sat before me.
The tiny being fell onto his back as he banged against the glass. I felt a swirl in my heartspace as I watched his little legs moving frantically as he tried to turn himself back over. My mind shifted from simple observation, to compassion, to action, as I realized I must assist this being in returning to the grass and the fresh air.
The squeamish bug-fearing adult in me grabbed a pen and placed it gently next to the creature, then scooped him up. But his legs could not grasp the smooth surface and soon he began to tumble down, down, down…
The less worrisome child in me caught the insect in my bare hands, ready to carry the little lady the long journey down the stairwell.
And so we journeyed together. I carrying the being, and the being carrying me.
This tiny and precious creature sat in my hand all the way down to the door. A colleague or two glanced at me cupping my hands curiously, and I kept my attention focused on my mission: get little lady back home.
When I stepped across the threshold to the outdoors, I breathed the fresh warm air and felt the breeze against my skin and hair. I walked to a patch of fluffy green grass and clover, and lay my hand down to release my little friend.
He clung to my hand for a couple more moments, perhaps confused or afraid or both - another being just trying to survive, another being seeking happiness, another being seeking the release from suffering…
I helped guide him to a blade of grass which he eventually clung to, and I stepped back as lady reacquainted himself with the outdoors. I prayed for his freedom and wellbeing, felt immense gratitude for the spontaneous compassion-teaching moment, and carried on with my day.
Later, the sky grew dark and the heavens opened as torrential rain poured down from the clouds. I thought of my friend with concern and wondered if I’d done the right thing - if I’d acted skillfully or from a place of wisdom. Was I only serving my own ego and need to serve by assisting this being? What would be his fate out in the floods? I wondered these things from my desk and prayed to Buddha again for the creature’s wellbeing, sinking humbly into not knowing, not controlling, only trying, feeling, being, practicing.
