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PERSPECTIVES

Dr. D. H. Parsons

During a break while teaching a class recently at a local college, I happened to be standing next to a window that looked out upon the lawns of the college.  The building I was in was an old gymnasium that, upon the construction of a new gymnasium, has been converted into a lecture hall of sorts.  It's a beautiful old building with wood floors and high ceilings, built somewhere around the turn of the century or before, and with all the charm that any old building might afford especially in its windows.  Unlike most gymnasiums that prefer to go windowless, this gym has large windows, hung at chest level, running the entire length of the north wall.  It makes one wonder how many windows were broken in the early days when students still played basketball inside.

As I was leaning against one of these window sills peering out at the beautiful lawn on the other side of the glass, I began to look not so much at the sky and the trees and the buildings, but at the lawn itself which, do to the fact that the gym is sunk about four feet into the ground, is at eye level.  And as I gazed out at the lawn I became riveted by the little world that lay before me.  I was spellbound.  The more I strained my eyes at this little microcosm of life, the less I was aware of anything else that was going on around me.  I was absolutely amazed as I began to notice for the first time in my life the wonders that such a mundane little patch of earth could reveal to the human eye.

For some reason or other the first thing to grab my gaze was a tiny black ant wandering around the ground in a seemingly carefree and meaningless fashion.  He didn't appear to have a destination at all.  He just sauntered from left to right and north to south and west to north ... and all the while he was climbing over every kind of obstacle an ant could encounter on such an outing.  Obstacles that to you and I would be nearly insurmountable.

Now, I know the ant surely had some sort of purpose in mind as he sauntered around like that.  Perhaps he was looking for a new source of food to take back to his colony, or a water source - no doubt something of an important nature to himself and the rest of his family.  But it wasn't so much his purpose or intent that mesmerized me so, as it was the obstacles that he had to overtake as he went along.  And as he went along two thoughts occurred to me.  First of all that these obstacles, from the ant's viewpoint, varied in size from merely large to gargantuan!  Every little rock that he climbed upon, in proportion to the world in which we humans live, was the size of a large boulder.  The larger rocks were the size of a mountain.

Another consideration is that the ground beneath any common lawn is covered with various objects that the human eye never really notices because we, as a human species, are too far above them and we don't have to climb over them ... we just stomp them under foot.  Any major obstacles we encounter, because of our frailty and our lack of dexterity, we usually just walk around - or we avoid them by going back the way we came. But nothing stops an ant's forward progress, even when we consider that to an ant every little twig is like a large fallen tree trunk, every tree limb is like a seven story building. Everything it meets along the path of its life is not only something very large, it is something the ant has to climb over.  Something he must conquer.  Even the blades of grass must have seemed like a veritable forest to the ant.

As I watched the little fellow weave in and out through the maze of grass blades, I realized that because of just the slightest of breezes the grass blades were in constant motion.  The ant was being forced to bob and weave for all he was worth just to make his way through them.  What must that have seemed like to the poor little guy?  Thousands of large green protuberances vibrating and waving all around him in every direction - a veritable sea of translucent, sun-glowing, massive green knife blades, some as tall as the Empire State Building, swaying every which way around and beside and above him in wild abandon.  Like a psychedelic light show back in the Sixties only with an added touch of danger.

But ... the little ant just went along his merry way as if it was merely a "walk in the park" (which of course it really was.)   In fact, at one point I even saw the little creature climb upon one of the swaying blades of grass and ride it for a while as if he were enjoying every moment of the experience.

So what does all this have to do with Metaphysics?  Plenty.  The word "Metaphysics" is most correctly defined as something that is "beyond the physical."  And although an ant is a physical creature, the inner-mechanics governing how an ant processes its physical life certainly must be of a non-physical nature.

It is assumed by most scientists that ants don't "think" like we think.  It is believed that they don't feel emotion like we feel emotion.  In fact, the consensus is that ants process just about everything totally different than we humans.  They are capable of doing everything only from an instinctual manner that is guided from somewhere deep within that tiny little brain of theirs.  If they even have brains.

Yet ... after my experience with the ant outside that gymnasium window, why is it that I find ants so appealing?  It's not so much the way they act and react physically, as it is their apparent outlook on life.  I mean, if an ant is just in it for the instinctual inner-command to "bring back the bacon," so to speak ... then why did that little fellow get up on that blade of grass and treat it as if it were a ride at Disneyland?  Perhaps there is more to this ant stuff than meets the eye.  Maybe there is something we can learn about ourselves if we take the time to go "beyond the physical" (and the scientific) theories about ants, and dabble for a while in the Metaphysical.

Is it all just "instinct?"  Consider the following traits of ants, and ask yourself the questions:  "Is it possible that there is something behind what we observe as "typical characteristics of the common ant" that prove it to be much more than merely an instinctual creature?"   "Could it be that maybe ants might even be superior to us in many ways?"

Unlike a lot of we humans, ants are mega-producers.  They're always busy, they're never lazy, and they don't make excuses.  Human beings spend half their time on the job doing work of a poor quality, and the other half making excuses for it.  And have you ever seen an ant take a cigarette break?  Go on strike?  Not finish a job?  That's called responsibility and it produces quality results.

Relative to us, ants are also creatures of little strength.  But they use every bit of their strength to get the job done.  Also relative to us they can carry many times their own weight.  A few weeks ago I brought home over 100 concrete blocks to build a patio in my back yard.  I'm not sure how much each block weighed, but I could only carry one or two at a time and when I got through with the job every muscle in my body ached and I thought I would never walk again!  By contrast, an ant could have done what I did without breaking a sweat.

And the real lesson in this area is management. Yes, compared to man an ant has little strength.  But unlike man, an ant is able to concentrate its strength in one particular area at any given time so that its strength is magnified. An ant uses all its strength on one thing in order to get the job done.  It doesn't multi-task.  It doesn't waste time and energy on worthless pursuits (Super Bowl?) like we do.  And perhaps some of it might be instinctual as in the case of storing up food for the winter ... but I wonder.  Is it instinct or is it an inner guidance mechanism that is more liken unto intelligence - as in conscience or Spirit of God.

Are the ants really "thinking ahead?" If so, this is a good lesson for we humans.  Some words that immediately come to mind are: emergency, recession, inflation, ill health, old age, and retirement.  I'm not talking about "storing up treasures on earth," I'm talking about careful maintenance of what God has loaned to us.  Just as our natural resources are being used up and abused at an incredible rate, there is no guarantee that when the time comes to face common emergencies there will be the means to do so.  Even Metaphysicians should be concerned about their future.

Ants also teach us the subtle arts of participation and cooperation.  When they work, they work together as a unit in total harmony one with the other.  No bickering about one having to carry more of the load than another.   No concern about Bill making more money than Natalie.  No petty jealousies over work hours and tasks.  They've just got this peanut butter sandwich laying there and they know what has to be done.

In Uganda, villagers tie food from ropes at the end of tree limbs high in tree tops so the animals can't get to it. But the ants climb the tree, crawl down the rope to the food, and then they grab on to one another and make an ant ladder all the way from the food package at the end of the tree limb to the ground beneath.  The ladder then makes it easy for other ants to crawl upward - over the bodies of their fellow ants - to get to the food.  And back and forth they go until the food has been successfully removed from the tree and transported to the ant's storage mound.  This entire process takes place in just a few hours so that when the villagers come out to get their food the next morning, nothing is left but a rope.

Just think of what the human race could accomplish if it copied the ant in this endeavor.  If we could only learn to lay aside our petty differences and jealousies and cooperate with each other as one body.

Participation makes me think of perseverance.  When flood, wind or predator destroys an ant colony, the ants rebuild it immediately.  The ants don't stop to vote about it.  They don't seek the opinion of a neighboring colony.  They just get the job done.

I once tried an experiment where I deliberately destroyed an ant colony (I didn't hurt the ants) by kicking it down and filling in the hole.  This was quite a large ant hole and the damage was large enough that had the same thing happened to a human city it would have taken years to repair.  But within two minutes I noticed the tiny little head of a worker ant pop up through the dirt and sand that had covered his nest.  And within a few seconds after that, dozens of ants were streaming out the hole as if nothing had ever happened.

So what did I do?  I kicked it in again.  And again. And again.  Seven times I destroyed the nest and each time I destroyed it I attempted to make it harder for the ants to dig their way out - including deliberately placing obstacles (i.e. small concrete pieces and bricks) in the way.  Nothing mattered!  Within the same amount of time, here came little Andy Ant, followed by all his buddies and within minutes the nest was back in order.  I watched as a small group of the ants grabbed onto the concrete and brick objects and carry them away as if they were pieces of paper, and not only were they removing them from blocking the entrance, they used them in fortifying the perimeter around the nest!

The amazing thing to me was the fact that the ants didn't just move out of the neighborhood.  They continued to rebuild the same nest over and over again.  I suppose if I had destroyed it a thousand times they would still be there today.  That's what perseverance is about.  For some reason or another they had chosen that particular spot to support their colony and it apparently had great significance to the entire family of ants.  So they were not about to allow a mere human to take that away from them.  They persevered in their efforts to rebuild and retain their home until the human got tired, felt silly, gave up and went back to his own nest.

Perseverance is one of those things that insures the preservation of the species ... be it ant or human.  And yes, I realize that much of what I am writing about deals with the "physical" but just how far is the leap one can make to bring the Metaphysical into the picture.  Not very far.

Every credible religion on earth professes all of the qualities I have mentioned (or implied) above as being qualities that are inherent in Spiritual endeavors as well.  Personal strength, management (or "stewardship") skills, perseverance, creativity, participation and cooperation. And as we know, Metaphysics deals with those things that are "beyond the physical" which means they cannot be separated from the Spiritual.  (And make no mistake about it, since Metaphysics deals primarily with the Spiritual, it is quite appropriate to refer to it at times as a "religion" in and of itself.)

In a round about way my point is that everything we attempt in our lives, everything we think or do or desire to create ... all must be considered as a matter of perspective.  So much of what we do as a human species is so grand and glorious in our eyes, and yet the little ant has been outdoing us in many respects for millions of years.  And all that we do - just as all the ant does - may appear on the surface to be a physically based pursuit, but it finds its genesis in the Spiritual realm.  Which makes me believe that we should be spending less time watching TV, and more time observing those little creatures we often take for granted ... the ants, gnats, frogs.  Could it be that the "Secret of Life" lies not in the pursuit of entertainment or the human ego ... but in the study of Nature.