Day Dream with a Squirrel

"In sleep, fantasy takes the form of dreams.  But in waking life, too,

we continue to dream beneath the threshold of consciousness,

especially when under the influence of repressed or

other unconscious complexes."

C.G. Jung

Problems of Modern Psychotherapy

(1929)

 In the early morning, coffee cup in hand, I wandered out onto the back deck.  As I was sitting down appreciating the beautiful day presented before me, I noticed a squirrel hanging over our gutter looking down at me.  I am not a huge fan of squirrels.  I have nothing against them, but they are not my favorite as I find them to be annoying.  This may be based on an earlier experience:

I came home from work to go to bed with an out of control migraine.  I no sooner crawled into bed, when I heard a squirrel prancing around on our roof.  The noise that followed cannot be put into words, but the squirrel's actions can.  The squirrel fell down our capped fireplace chimney which happened to be metal lined.  So his claws screeched on the metal all of the way down as he made a god awful noise not endearing to my migraine.  Luckily, the glass doors were closed so when I pulled my body out of bed, my head throbbing, I could watch this small animal run around in circles safely behind glass doors.

I could tell you that the story ends here, but it doesn't.  I wanted this squirrel out of my house and out of my house now.  I called the Humane Society and 'instructed' them to come immediately.  They told me kindly that they only rescued dogs or cats.  Oh!  Did I say squirrel?  Perhaps it was a cat.  They arrived within 15 minutes.

In the meantime, I placed an ironing board, a foot rest, and a collapsible clothes rack to form a path for the squirrel to depart with grace.  I talked to the squirrel, yes, I did.  I told the frightened animal that he would be out momentarily if he would just calm down and cooperate.  I extended light to him to help him relax and not feel as though he was in harms way.  I sensed, however, he knew I was ready to do him harm.

The Humane Society gentleman arrived in his truck bearing nets and all kinds of rescue things.  He came into the house saying, "Now when I open these glass doors, I want you to be standing right here."  Oh no, all I could think of was that Chevy Chase movie with some animal hanging down his face.  I politely, okay maybe not so politely,  explained to him that he was the trained professional and I was a by stander.    Remarkably, things went well.  He opened the glass doors and pulled the screen carefully back.  The squirrel hopped out, followed my make shift path and ran out the door.  The kind animal rescuer  looked at me and said, "Boy that cat sure looked like a squirrel!"  Funny man.  I promptly returned to bed with an extra dose of medication.

But I digress.  Today's morning squirrel was simply hanging off the gutter wondering what I was doing interrupting his play.  After trying to stare each other down, he scampered down the width of the house and jumped onto our privacy fence.  I watched as he ran around the entire fenced yard, and gracefully jumped back on the roof and once again began hanging from the gutter.  We again stared at each other.  So was I supposed to applaud or was he showing me something?

I began as usual ... if this were a waking dream, what would it be telling me?  Given my recent focus on repeated behavioral patterns, it was easy to figure out.  When we are hanging by our last thread we are faced with options.  Do we want to take the short lesson running the width of the house or do we want to take the long version which often times returns us right back where we started ... this being the lesson in itself.

This comes easily for me as I am a person who usually takes the longer route.  As I travel along, I get distracted, meet kindred spirits, and my fears subside.  Unfortunately, at some point I realize I am right back where I started and I am still face to face with the problem.  Nothing has been resolved.  If I had taken the shorter route, I would not have been distracted and hopefully I would have discovered resolve, ending up in a very different place.

There is much to be learned from our day dreams if we take the time to truly see what is being shown to us.  The actions of all things tell us a story about our personal life and behaviors. 

Wandering in the Morning

My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams.
The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful.  ~ Abram L. Urban



The temperature is predicted to be high today, so early this morning I sought solitude outside.  I sat on the deck admiring all of the colors spreading across my view.  Then I brought my gaze back to each and every container, enjoying the uniqueness of each plant. 



Then I wandered out into the back yard passing the perennial garden.  I wish the peonies lasted all summer like they do in my childhood memories.  The Lily of the Valley needs to be thinned and the Iris as well.  The Day Lilies are flaunting their colors and the sage is still strong.  The roses remain fragrant.



I slowly examine the three tomato plants that will be our source for this summer.  They are all bountiful and I anxiously await their sweet warm taste straight from the vine.



The little stone bench is waiting for me against the big old tree.  My youngest son gifted it to me so many years ago, and it beckons me like an old friend.  Sitting in the very back of the yard, I take in the fresh grass smell from its recent mowing.  The neighbors have their sprinkler going and the sound adds to the backdrop of birds chirping and squirrels racing around like they were crazy.



The neighbors yard is comparative to glancing at a well used painter's palette.  It is swarming with color and a sight to behold.  They have a bench well hidden in the back of the yard, surrounded by flowering bushes such as the Rose of Sharon.



I find myself to be totally relaxed and thankful for these quiet morning moments before I begin my day.  I begin to drift into day dreams, speculating as to where my children might be.  I slide back in time recalling when they were all so little with hearts and minds filled with innocence and imagination.  How I loved those days.  



I am overly joyful for all that I have ... to be loved and to love, family, friends who have grown to be family, sisters of my heart, free time, health, gifts and talents.  My life is like this yard of flowers, dotted with spectacular color and design.  My heart is filled with gratitude!

Sweet and Tart

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. 

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Today is a lovely day by the water.  The lull of the waves, the peace of the gentle breeze, and the sun shining upon my face settle me into my lazy chair.  My toes dig deeply into the warmth of the sand while my eyes gently close in reverie.

It is then that I see you, my friend.  You are sitting on your porch waiting, just waiting for me to pass by.  We happily embrace and eagerly I sink into the waiting chair.  You have made lemonade for us, sweet and tart, just like life can sometimes be.

We sit and chat, laughing at the really big things and crying over some of the little niggling things.  We gently clasp hands, exchanging the 'knowing' that we each share, that our friendship will always endure, and that we will be connected forever more.

Time has passed oh too quickly and it is time I am back on my way.  We hug yet again, promising soon, so soon we will be together again to open our hearts, to share life's burdens, and to chase the darkness away. 

The seagull calls to me and I gently open my eyes.  The tide has rolled in and the waves are inches from my edge.  The sun is now resting behind a cloud, and the breeze blows my day dream away.