Reflections on an Inch-Worm

I stood out this morning watching the sun as it rose red and glowing from the mists across the field. It was breath-taking. When I returned to the house I found an inch-worm had attached itself to my clothing. I observed it in fascination at it made its way across the topography of cloth. It was slow, but sure. In watching, I was reminded of the spiritual progression of the human soul.

First the “searching function” of the head/heart of this creatures ranges far outside the circle of its normal horizon. It lifts its head and quests outward turning this way and that. In questing forward it seeks out a new place to stand. When it has found it, then it brings its feet to its head/heart and a new function begins—the “foundational function.” It grips the new place firmly, grounds its being now in this freshly “found” place and takes its stand. Then it begins all over again—the search for the new—but it can only do so because of the sure footedness of the ground on which it now stands. Its whole journey is a searching, a finding, then a movement from feet up to the head, taking a stand, making a new but firm foundation, and then a new searching begins, which ultimately entails a new letting go of the old foundations to stand firmly in the new. Over and over again it goes.

It makes progress inch by inch across a varied topography that is totally unknown, and yet it appears not to be afraid—even when I gave it my “foreign” hand as new territory for exploration. It did not draw back and refuse to go forward.

Ah, to be like the inch-worm.