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DAVID BENTLEY'S WEEKLY COLUMN |
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DINNER WITH A CATERPILLAR
Last night I shared my picnic table with a hairy, brown caterpillar that had black spots on his back. After eating, I decided to observe the little critter. Moving in a straight line from the opposite corner of the table, he seemed to be making a path directly toward me. So I banged my fist on the table. From two feet away, he felt the vibration and stopped dead in his tracks for about ten seconds. Then he resumed his previous course. After banging my fist four times the caterpillar had only moved a few inches, but seemed determined to come my way. So I threw a handful of grass toward him. One blade landed in such a way as to block his path. He backed up, changed course, and headed toward the edge of the table. At the edge, he stretched half his body out over the precipice and moved it in several directions feeling for something to grab onto. He never investigated moving down to the underside of the table and onto the leg that would take him to the ground below. Instead, he backed up, turned 90 degrees, and headed toward the far end of the table. Again, at this edge of the table, he extended his body out into space looking for something to grab onto. Finding nothing, he just pulled himself back onto the table and stared out into space. Eventually I tired from staring at the caterpillar staring, and went back into my house. Now I realize we humans do the same thing as that caterpillar. We come to the edge of a problem, expecting the solution to look a certain way. When it doesn't, we either back off from the problem or just sit staring at it. And all the time, the real solution is there in front of us, but just not looking the way we thought it would.
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SAN JUAN ISLANDER © 2008 |
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