Last night I went outside lit the grill, and, turning back to the house, found that hundreds, perhaps thousands of ants, were swarming in our back yard. They covered an area about two feet wide and twelve feet long. They were females swarming out of an underground nest to prepare for their mating flight.

I walked around their swarming area, being careful not to step on any and feeling somewhat guilty for already having done so inadvertently on my trip to the grill. As is my wont, I tried not to harm these living creatures, respecting their spark of life, the divine fire, as being worthy of honor. The words of the Jaina Sutras echoed in my ears: Walk circumspectly. And like a Jain monk, I carefully peered at the ground before taking each step.

As the evening wore on, I made several trips back and forth to the grill to check the fire, to spread the coals, to barbecue the meat, each time being careful not to step on any ants.

And so the irony.

I was being so careful not to kill any of these ants while I prepared the fire and then cooked the flesh of a pig, whose life had been taken to serve my appetite for meat.

Now, a pig is certainly at least as worthy of life as an ant. Most of us might even say that a pig, being more "evolved"--by which we generally mean closer to us genetically--is more "worthy" than an ant. Or even an army of ants.

So I was struck by the irony of being so careful about ant life and so cavalier about a pig's life.

I suspect most of us have such contradictions built in. The issue is, having noticed them, whether to do anything about them.

One approach is to say, "oh well" and go on about one's business. Is that the path of growth?

One approach is to laugh at one's self and, with a carefree heart, happily walk upon some ants. That strikes me as too callous and careless about life.

One approach is to swear off meat eating, something I have done in the past. But I know that at this point in my life I am not inclined to do so. That saddens me, in a way, because I think of myself as a better person than that. Since I recognize the pain which animals suffer in order to provide me with food and clothing, I ought to refuse to be part of imposing that pain. And yes, I categorize it in terms of being a "better person". Anyone who does not probably does not accept the proposition that the suffering of other creatures is the same as ours, or that it matters.

But I know that, the closer to us biologically the creature is, the more their suffering, both physical and emotional, is the same. I know that it is the pain and suffering which matters, not whether a creature has "intelligence". Even the most stupid of mammals feels the pain of a knife slicing into its throat. So, in terms of suffering, I cannot say "it's only an animal". That's all we are, really. Animals with somewhat larger brains.

Or at least, larger neo-cortices.

But maybe not larger compassion.

For now, I comfort myself with the logic that the pig died for a purpose, feeding me, keeping me healthy, and satisfying my taste buds; but that stepping on ants would serve no purpose other than shortening my trip to the grill.

And so I live in between.

I Live in between being the person who is uncaring and the person who is caring enough to stop.

I live in between feeling good about myself and changing so that I do feel good.

I live in between non-compassion and genuine compassion; between a moral view of life and a moral life itself.

That is, perhaps, the general human condition.