Morbid Reflection and a Squirrel Trilogy
If you have read my blog posts and poetry for awhile, you know that besides our beloved cockapoo Oliver, I probably mention squirrels more than any other creature. Squirrels, deer, and Oliver. Teachers, all.
Oliver teaches me to rest, stretch, be spontaneous. Deer usually teach quietly, gracefully. Squirrels are acrobatic educators. Their physical acrobatics help me arrive at mental and spiritual acrobatics my little brain and big heart can’t reach on their own.
Saturday morning, I was sitting with some recovery friends, discussing the curse of our own thinking — the “ism” of alcoholism that remains with us, even after we quit drinking. Alcohol isn’t our problem, it is our solution. Our problem lies more in our minds. Thankfully, I have also heard “Every problem is a spiritual problem. Every solution is a spiritual solution.” The work of recovery is the work of growing spiritually. For me, squirrels are spiritual teachers in small form carrying big messages.
As we had our shared conversation, out the window, in my direct line of vision, a squirrel made several trips back and forth across a low roof. This poem percolated and was written yesterday:
Back and Forth/Morbid Reflection
I can make an art form of turning every thought
into a draining rumination on shortcomings and regret.
It is ugly art, produced prolifically.
The squirrel I am watching out the window
isn’t likely engaging in similar morbid reflection.
This creature's art flows uninhibited, as it moves back and forth.
My mind wastes stores of energy, a negative loop on repeat,
while the squirrel simply creates daily sustenance.
One of us is storing nuts, the other is driving herself nuts.
It joins these two poems I have written previously and creates my “Squirrel Trilogy.”
I Wish . . .
I wish I could
scurry up a fence
scamper across a wire
climb nimbly up
and down a tree
as easily and carefree
as you do
I wish I were
as comfortable
out on a limb
as you are
Who is the Wiser?
Squirrels pause,
perched in a tree,
then proceed
playfully, yet
productively,
into their day.
Humans rush fast,
sometimes furiously,
often frenzied
and frazzled,
through their hours,
yet never finish.
Brain size aside,
who is the wiser?
Morbid reflection or comfortable out on a limb? Rush or pause? Living gratefully and striving to grow spiritually, with the help of a kind and gentle Great Spirit, supportive friends, and squirrel teachers, allows for comfortable pauses where I find the answers. Faith allows for free fall acrobatics.
