Twilight

One day I was rinsing my sinus at the kitchen sink, as I do every morning, when I noticed a darting speck on the shiny surface. Why, it's an ant.

The ant is surrounded by droplets of various sizes, desperately feeling its way out of the danger zone. It is a mission nearly impossible.

I felt sorry for the creature then. Then it hit me: I have empathy... for an ant?! How Buddhist of me! Except, of course, I am not Buddhist. As a child I would have flushed it down the drain, without a second thought, with pleasure. But at this moment I pictured myself as the ant. What terror it must be to be in this precarious terrain with seemingly no way out, and what unspeakable suffering it would be to drown in this massive darkness. What a horrible way it would be to die!

Watching the ant struggle to crawl to safety moved me. It had so much drive, determination, and energy. I tried my darndest to avoid having water flow near it. But a little splash was inevitable. Even without me, though, there was enough wetness around to drown a hundred ants effortlessly.

I took my mind off it a bit. If it was going to fall to its death, I was certainly not going to enjoy witnessing it. (I pondered extending a finger as a rescue attempt, but I'd probably kill it in the process. That would be worse.)

Before I knew it, the ant was on the vertical rise. I couldn't believe it, it was moving so swiftly. Imagine this wall that was equivalent to five hundred times it's length... Could a human climb a 200-floor building with such ease? Certainly not!

The ant escaped. Poof. It was like the whole thing had never happened.

I was incredulous and relieved. I marveled at the will power of the tiny life form to survive. Instincts are just programmed in us. The fittest get to live. If anyone doubted Darwin, here you go.

If there was more empathy and kindness in the world, imagine...