No more nuts for the squirrelly

I’m sitting here, at the dining table window, watching the squirrels at the bird feeder and wondering why do we say someone is ‘squirrelly’? Are we comparing them to the souped up speed of the squirrel, or the quick-change focus? Maybe it’s their ability to stir up trouble almost out of thin air. Or because the person’s thoughts make about as much sense as a squirrel’s mad dashes up, down, and round through the trees?

Which leads me to my next question—am I squirrelly?

My brain has spent half a lifetime creating stress within its boney home. Just ask my husband, who used to get nailed to the doorframe (mentally) as he arrived home. Why? Because I’d gone round and round in my head all the irritating ( to me, not him) things he’d done, or would do, or say, and had convinced myself I was the long-suffering victim of his thoughtless actions.

Then, with him taken care of, I was able to focus on righting wrongs, setting people straight, helping others overcome dire circumstances—and all without working up a sweat—thanks to the overworked gray matter under my hair.

Over time I`ve come to know the ins and outs, the habits and the kinks of my own brain and by better knowing my own I`ve come to understand others too. I get the difference between soul and ego thinking. I see my thoughts for what they are—generated by ego. And the funny thing is—the more I recognise them, the less moody I am becoming.

It’s not easy, this dropping of old companions but the wild party is over—soul has arrived. There is no longer any need for the ego moods so I am taking each one and kissing them so long.

  •  Goodbye teenage angst with your exploding hormones and kiss-my-butt-do-I-know-you attitude.
  • Adieu to the artist brain wanting to create shocking, raw works that pop the buttons on the up-to-your-doublechin-collar of the staunchy twits of the world.
  • Ta Ra to the raised-by-chickens lady who clucks herself sick at the thought of causing stress to anyone, even the truly ignorant buffoons.
  • Bye-bye to the Mother Teresa mood who insists she can cure all, heal all, mend all if just given the chance.

And hello to the wide-eyed, spirit-filled, child-being who sees the world without judging and without ego; who sees the truth. I suppose it could be called being dog-brained too. After all—dogs chase squirrels don’t they?

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