What strikes me about the bug is that it is going along living its bug life whether I have ever seen it before or not, whether I know what it's called or not. That I don't understand its life or what it is called doesn't affect the bug. I watch it, don't feel a need to kill, swat, whack or torment it. I realize that it's teaching me something.
Sometimes I wonder what other people think of me, how they see me, how I affect them. I even get a little anxious about it now and again. If they tell me how they feel, I usually believe them, but sometimes I even wonder about that, too. I actually do things at times so that the person I'm with will approve of me, like me better or think I'm cool. I've probably never been cool, especially since I loved to go to the library and read magazines and books during my spare time at school, and I never jumped off of high places with bungee cords tied to my ankles. So, being an uncool and quiet person, I wonder what people think of me at times. It has never done me any good to care.
It seems not to matter to the bug. The bug is living a casual bug's routine life regardless of what I think of it or not. I think it's pretty freeing not to care, to be bug-like. I know this begs the question: What if I kill the bug? Shouldn't it be more concerned? Maybe. It doesn't seem to notice me, up in the air above it, 3,000 times bigger than it is, capable of annihilating it.
I have been known to fret a lot about these kinds of things. Does he love me? Did they like me? Was I nice enough, smart enough? Did I impress them? I think that when I just stop caring and become oblivious to judgements by others, I get to the point of being able to walk on a leaf up side down. Or the human equivalent of that. I am more likely to reach my potential if I pay attention to what my heart and mind are telling me, pay attention to the truth of the matter, when I walk my walk unconcerned, right side up or up side down.
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