The ant in the sink

90-91:
Altruism usually means putting-in first. It needs some effort and that’s inconvenient. It’s made easier (‘being’ altruistic) if it’s done as easily and naturally as we breathe fresh air. It shouldn’t be too planned nor so casual that it goes unnoticed.
Say we choose to act unselfishly, in the best interests of our own child. That feels very altruistic and natural. Say we now try to apply that to everything else, not too ambitiously but perhaps quite rigorously. In our next decision, say finding an ant in the sink, we act altruistically.
It might go something like this ... Me, acting compassionately. Me, being inconvenienced (it’s so easy to turn on the tap). Me, ready to decide its fate. I’m irritated “damned ants”. I don’t want it there. I don’t like ants. I’m thinking of drowning it. I’m resisting the temptation (to turn on the tap). I’m switching from self interest to ‘the interest’ of the insect. I’m saving it, my hand is reaching for a sheet of paper to scoop it up onto dry land. I’m learning to deal with a familiar ants-in-the-sink situation a new way.
By making this choice I don’t so much solve a problem (of the ant in the sink) as recognise the lesson in acting non-violently. My nose should twitch at every temptation to be selfish, twitch at the chance for some opposite-thinking, of NOT taking the line of least resistance.
Why not treat the ant with the same consideration as the child? It’s kind, yes, but it takes us on a great journey - we draw closer to the ant’s world. We open our imagination, to get closer to that world. It’s an unknown world, which has its own reasons to remain outside human understanding.