I went outside to get a few minutes of fresh air and sunshine. I walk down the stairs, out the door, and walk over to the stoop I like to sit on. This spot is near the trees but has a nice view of the intersection so I can watch the cars go by.
As I’m sitting there listening to the birds chirping and the cars pretending to stop at the stop signs, I look over to my right and see a large worm wriggling my way. I have to be honest; I was a bit startled.
Worms and I haven’t always had the best relationship. My Dad used to take us fishing and I could never bring myself to put the worm on the hook. I couldn’t kill the worm. I much preferred the salmon eggs or power bait; you know the bait stuff that looks like play-doh. It was awesome. And with these two options, I never felt the need to end the worm’s life for the sake of a possible fish.
Another reason I have a sort of phobia with those amazing little dirt producers is because of a childhood neighbor of mine. When I was twelve years old, my neighbor Jason decided to try to get my attention by throwing worms at my window. It was disgusting. Truly it was nightmare fuel.
So, as I’m sitting there looking down at this worm wriggling on the pavement, desperately trying to find the dirt, I realize that there’s no quick way for him to get up that tall stoop to the grassy earth. So, I muster up my inner Buddhist, shut away my fear, grab a stick and try to help this worm to the dirt. But this worm won’t get on the stick. I’m pretty sure he thought I was going to kill it and my stick was the weapon. So, after a bit, I figured the worm could handle this situation on its own and will eventually find the lawn. I was wrong.
When I went back outside about 45 minutes later, I went to the same spot on the stoop and sat down. I had completely forgotten about the worm when I looked at the ground, a bit away from where the worm and I had our standoff before and saw the same worm, dried up from the sun. My heart sank.
I quickly grabbed another stick and managed to get the worm to safety, but it may have been too late. I put him in a shady spot of dirt where hopefully he’ll regain his little wormy consciousness. I said a little prayer and turned to sit back on the stoop. As I went to sit, I saw a beautiful blue-grey bird just about a foot and a half away from me, just sitting in the bush. I then realized that maybe that worm was meant for that bird, all sauteed from the sun and just waiting for him.
If that worm had let me help him, maybe he would still be a worm digging in the dirt. Or maybe he still would have been a meal but would’ve been worm sashimi. Either way, we’ll never know. Either way, he’s part of our beautiful ecosystem. We all are, we’re all connected. Don’t be the dried-up worm. Don’t let your pride keep you from accepting help in this life, it’s rare when it comes around. Sometimes we need to accept the help we’re offered so we can see what we can be and see what we can do.
Happiness is a gift we can give ourselves every day. It’s not always easy but it can be learned. Don’t wait to start living your happiest life.