Worm wisdom
The autumnal rains have brought the wriggly beings of our world out in force. No, I am not speaking of particular politicians or global business giants…
It is rather the humble worm (and slug) that I turn towards. For it is seeing them all over the pavement (and street and decking) that I am reminded of a spontaneous superpower we all have within ourselves.
When I was a child, I would go out to the drive in front of our house after a rainstorm and pick up the stranded worms and put them back in the grass. That’s it. There was no one telling me to do it, there was no squeamishness about picking up the worms. It was to me just a simple, practical and spontaneous act. Only as an adult did I realise this was compassion – a wish and practical act to help another being who is suffering.
Now, you may not be drawn to transporting slimy worms (goodness knows why I was – and still am). But I suspect if you stop and reflect, there is your version of an unprompted, completely wholehearted act to help another without any expectation of applause: visiting a friend in hospital, acknowledging a work colleague’s struggle with their manager, collecting food for a food bank for children who can’t afford breakfast, showing up in solidarity for those experiencing injustice, violence, bereavement.
Compassion can sound like hard work. It doesn’t have to be. Just ask the slugs in my garden.
With a bow
Maitripushpa
