A small beetle flails and flips in the pool water. Clearly he missed swimming lessons as a toddler. He can't even do the doggy paddle. With a flick of my index finger, he sails into the air and lands on the deck. Quickly, he rights himself and hurries to scurry back toward the water? WHY I wonder? He cannot swim. He cannot get out on his own. He knows he's in trouble if his wings get wet. He has no life vest. He's vulnerable against the hundreds of gallons of pool water which threaten
to drown him.
Yet although he lands on dry safe ground, without a beetle thought, he immediately turns around and once again joins in the fight against the dangerous water. He had help. And he refused it.
I could not help but to be fascinated by his stupidity. If he would have just pointed himself toward the grass, he'd be okay. It led me to think of us humans and how we do the exact thing. We get into trouble, flailing and flipping in distress, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to something bigger than us. We fight it. We get out. We land safely. We are high and dry.
Then what do we do? We turn around and scurry back to the danger ... we want more ... more drama, more distress, more jeopardy, more repetition of the things that hurt and endanger us: a toxic relationship, an unfulfilling job, a bad friend, the junk we pour into our bodies, verbal abuse, physical abuse, drinking too much, disputes with family and friends, credit card overload we can never afford to pay back.
We flail again. We might get help again - we might not. We might escape again this time - we might not.
Know there is another direction to move - away from the danger. Protect yourself. Accept the help. Do not return to the battle.
