hello, little teacher

**Update to one of my personally favorite posts from 2011,
as the lessons from this little teacher continue to deepen ....

Karmapa Dream Flag via Wikimedia Commons

The American primitive painter Albert Pinkham Ryder (1847-1917) reported watching an inch-worm crawl up a twig and then, clinging to the very end, revolve in the air, feeling for something to reach. “That’s me,” he said, “I am trying to find something out there beyond the place on which I have a footing.”
- Robert Genn

_______________________Original post below______________________

As I was waking up with my unsettled, loose-end'ish feeling self and starting the day today, I was sitting at this desk when I noticed this tiny little worm. 

I noticed as s/he/'it' moved along that at times the surface of the desk seemed slippery and it

struggled for traction.

Sometimes the cracks made it turn and

go another way.

Sometimes it would topple over and get back up.

It went over the cracks, down the tiers of the edge of the desk and back up again several times.

What is going on here?

I curiously wondered.

It danced on this edge for a bit.

After a while it made it over to this curtain and once it got on there the energy really picked up and
up, up it went.

With such purpose.

I found myself hopefully cheering it on

then wondering what could possibly be its motivation

up there.

Then it froze.

It seemed to be hanging in mid-air.

This seemed to go on for a very long time.

I was very confused.

Was it resting? Dying? (that must have taken a lot out of it, scurrying up the curtain like it did)

If so, how was it hanging on like that?

Life is about Improvising

I recalled yesterday hearing Tina Fey describe the timing of when to enter an improv comedy sketch.

She said it's

when the person needs help.

when they are floundering.

when they've lost connection.

not when you think you have something to say.
 I found this quite profound.

Their sketch is not about you,

but if you see they need help,

help them if you can.

I decided to quietly observe what was happening inside myself while this little sketch was playing out in front of me, and practice this timing.

Is this little worm in need of help?

If so, how on earth would I know what a worm needs?

I felt very ill-equipped,

yet I was so enthralled with it all...

Its freezing was my cue.

It was as if it was saying

'now, now I could use some help, now!' 

 (seriously, even for an agile worm, doesn't that look physically demanding to stay like that for many minutes?)

Who knows whether that's what it was 'saying' or not, but that's when I remembered,

worms live outdoors!

It was touch and go, there was some sort of invisible spider web string-type thing involved (had it gotten tied up in it and that's why it 'froze'? I don't know.), but I managed to get it onto a piece of paper and bring it safely outside.

 I felt happy to see it move along the surface of the outdoors in the sunlight,
gaining traction once again.

The rest is between it and its God.

I believe we all are sentient beings with our own innate BuddhaNature, involved in the totality of living,

subject to illusion, suffering, and rebirth.

That is the level on which I connected with this

mighty teacher of 1/4 inch...