“Squirrel!” Like the talking dog in the movie “Up,” I’m distracted.
While reading, peripheral movements at the bird feeder have snagged my gaze. A small rodent poses atop the Squirrel Begone Baffle.
Book forgotten, I fetch my camera.
I am easily baffled. Prone to distraction:
- hunger clears its throat when I mean to pray, then my feet escort me kitchen-ward
- a traffic accident occurs and I rubberneck
- during party conversations my ears mimic satellite dishes; I eavesdrop on other conversations
Some days my head locks onto the wrong setting: S.W.I.V.E.L.
Squirrel!
A tree squirrel can rotate both hind ankles 180 degrees, allowing breezy, head-first walks down a tree trunk. Or the quick-shinny up a metal pole.
To learn from this one—albeit after the fact—I launch an imaginary conversation: “Do you have a message for me?”
Then I give him a voice and let him answer. You seem less agile, he seems to say.
Didn’t see that coming. Cheeky rodent. “Um, are you perchance … packing a metaphor?”
The squirrel does a double-take. Who me?
“Yes, you.”
Claws re-grip the pole. Coast is clear.
“Meaning …”
Dare …
Standing fully extended,
the squirrel looks relaxed, yet
primed for action.
“Show-off,” I say.
I’m enacting my hunger.
I suspect he says this because in his furry mind, he suspects I am not.
So I change the subject
Whiskers, or vibrissae, surround the squirrel’s nose, mouth, and limbs. Vibrissae ferry nerve impulses brimming with tactile information straight to the brain.
Which restarts the dialogue. “Okay, Scamp, those whiskers suggest I pursue my current project with all my resources?”
The small head cocks, vibrissae quiver.
“Or … you’re implying a leap of faith will override my latest baffling obstacle: fear of finishing.”
Silence.
“I’ll discover balance in time for the next upward push?”
Nothing.
“Following my hungers, the God-given kind, might aid my mental agility?”
Tsk. Follow the ache; embrace the fun.
“I get it. Tend the small hungers within my reach. Then extend the reach.”
Distraction: harnessed via imaginary dialogue. If you try this, let me know what happens?
Dug, the talking dog, in “Up”—(watch here).
5
Amazing! I plan to listen to my puppy 🙂
You must tell me what you learn! 🙂
Friend, you have the most uncanny way of voicing what I cannot put into words. In a season of transition myself this year and just listening right now. Thank you for this, “Tend the small hungers within my reach. Then extend the reach.”
(Plus, the talking dogs made me laugh S O hard I embarrassed my kids.)
Ah Jody, the current transition, a new season just beyond . . . I’m glad there were words here that suited your present pondering. And I look forward to seeing what unfolds through you and for you. 🙂
Thanks so much for your faithful reading and supportive feedback!
Delightful . . . and rich with meaning. As always, friend. Thank you.
Carol, how lovely to hear from you——all the way from France——on this rainy morning. I was tempted to feel glum when I let the dog out earlier. You’ve relaunched my attitude! Thanks for reading. 🙂
Wow! What profundity from a squirrel!! And like a well-trained psychiatrist he allows you to draw your own conclusion: “Tend the small hungers within reach. Then extend the reach.” You’re so blessed to have such wisdom right in your backyard! 🙂
Nancy, further proof that God goes to great lengths to get my attention! Thanks so much for reading and leaving a comment. 🙂
Laurie – Loved this! Get it! Distraction is all around. This time, I think God meant for this distraction to happen for you–so you could share it with the rest of us.
Linda Jo, I think you’re right. 🙂 Hope I can increasingly better discern when to return to my work and when to pause and listen up!
If we could harness distraction, as in turning it into a power source, I could power a county – but I’ve grown to like it that way! Love your words, your detail – who knew all that stuff about a squirrel – certainly not I!
John, great observation about our culture. If anyone could engineer that power connection, I’m thinking it would be you, my friend.
I’ve not been keen on squirrels—too many bird feeders and birdhouses commandeered and/or trashed, over time. But they are pretty amazing creatures. I enjoyed reading up on them. And engaging this one in conversation. Glad it entertained you, too. 🙂
Laurie, is it sacrilege to say that your beautiful and ever-innovative writing is a distraction for me?! I’m supposed to be working,, and not reading. Ugh. I have written about THE UP SQUIRREL before (more like my own squirrely distraction and about other distractions in various essays), and I soooo get this. There are marvelous Levertov poems on this that I quoted recently in one of my essays (she calls distraction in each poem, respectively, fragmentation and flickering). For me, personally, there are deeper issues to be explored: Why can’t I concentrate? Why am I so easily distracted and, moreover, why do I gravitate towards distractions that I know are banal and boring? (BTW, your writing is surely NOT in that category!! I always bask in its beauty and delight in your unique insights and wisdom. I just got distracted from my train of thought in writing that compliment, but I trust you won’t mind!) Why I am I not as much attracted to God’s purposes for me enough to stick w/ them, to finish *something*?! What is attractive about distraction to me? What does distraction detract from my life, my soul? When is distraction good–a surprise along God’s path, or actually a signpost from Him (think Moses at the burning bush), when it’s meant to distract me from routine and even things God feels I’ve now outgrown? I like dialogues, and often use the technique in my work, and when I do, I think of it David-style, as, say, he dialogued with his downcast soul in words such as he penned in Psalm 42. Dialoguing has revealed a whole host of insights about my life. Granted, I’ve never dialogued with a squirrel, and they rarely distract me, because I’ve because they are ubiquitous background rodents in our neck of the woods (and also because I don’t much like them.. and also because I don’t want to be like that nutcase, Stuart, in a Doc Martin episode! 🙂 ), but you have encouraged me to have a much-needed sit-down with my soul and my God, pen in hand, to get to the root cause of my tendency towards engaging in what distracts, detracts, and what I need to let attract me to a higher, nobler walk with Christ. I can’t thank you enough!
Okay back to work (and on to some soulwork as well)!
xoxo
Lynn
Lynn, I would enjoy reading that essay where you quote Levertov. (I borrowed one of her lines for a recent poem and now, having read your comment, she’s on my mind anew.) “Fragmentation” and “flickering” intrigues me. Email me a copy???
You are so right about distractions sometimes being a signpost, or invitation, or even a needed detour divinely directed; then, other times … NOT.
Discerning, that’s so often the poser for me.
These are potent, soul-searching questions you’re asking. Thanks for letting me know reading my dialogue experiment triggered them. 🙂 And good hunting, friend, as you and the Spirit track down answers.
This phrase of yours gets me thinking as well: “… what distracts, detracts, and what I need to let attract me …”
I’ve always loved that verse: “David encouraged himself in the Lord.” Dialogue is an ancient model, isn’t it?
Hope the work has gone well today. Your taking time to comment has sure enriched my thinking.