The morning after the meditation, I went for a hike with another friend. Note: He was not present at the meditation. I didn’t tell him a thing about it because he already gets on me for being such a hippie. Anywho, he told me not to bring my normal stuff... vest, snacks, you name it.
I have the habit of bringing everything including the kitchen sink. On top of that, I'll stop and ask if anyone needs water, a food, whatever. I've been told several times from more than one person that I'm like a Jewish Grandma in that respect. (That and I love my coupons, but that might be the Danish in me)
One thing I did take with me was Sarah's glasses. We hiked 5 miles in Mission Trails and it was the most beautiful Saturday afternoon you could ever dream of. Clear sky, slight breeze, and tons of birds chirping and butterflies fluttering about.
On the way there several caterpillars came jamming across the blacktop. They were scooting along so fast you’d think it was going out of style. One of them got turned ‘round and so I grabbed a leaf, picked him up, and put him in the bushes. My friend admonished me.
McLovin! (His nickname for me.) What are you doing!?
I explained that I was saving this poor fuzzy bug from being trampled on.
Birds gotta eat too! Just think about the little babbies back in the nest. They'll go hungry if they don't get that fat little caterpillar. Let’s keep movin’.
Little statement… big impact. Keeping in mind the lesson I had learned the night before, I was more aware of my behavior that day. Maybe a disoriented catterpilar would make a better lunch than butterfly. I could just see him flipping about aimlessly and ending up as a spider's lunch instead.
The other caterpillars were left alone, the large snake in the road wasn't even a temptation to mess with (nor would it ever be), and even though I was getting thirsty... my friend loveling dumped OUT the rest of the water bottle so it wouldn't be sloshing around as we ran the last legs back to the car. Damn... no excuses to stop and take a break.
We later witnessed over-responsibility in action. A hiker had injured themselves up on the hill. The San Diego rescue committee sent a helicopter, 3 fire engines, a cop or two, and of course, the rangers. I thought this person must have suffered a serious trauma. Not the case. The Sunday paper reported that the hiker had merely broken their ankle.
In my own way, if there's a friend in need, I do similar things: stop what I'm doing, dash to the nearest telephone booth, put on my Super-woman cape, rush to their aid carrying a first aid kit, chocolate, a rom-com, bottle of wine, kleenex, and Thai take-out. Turns out all they needed was someone to vent to over the phone about their crummy day, stupid boyfriend, over-protective parents, and their ill-mannered boss who has no bloody clue how to do business.
Next time, I'll leave the copter and cape at home.
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