The forgetfulness of squirrels
A poem-in-progress
Someone I once loved told me what I thought was one of my biggest weaknesses was actually an asset. And I’ve never stopped thinking about it. The grace love offers us, the redefining of our failures as strength.
Yesterday, I took Noah to Burr Oaks, a conservation center. We looked at fish and snakes and birds, learned how to tell clean water from polluted water, and then, just as we were about to leave, this one fact made me catch my breath.
Squirrels forget up to 50% of their buried nuts.
This poem is a reflection on the re-imagining of our flaws and the power of nature to call us back home to ourselves, whole, imperfectly perfect just as we are.
Squirrels, I am told forget 50% of their buried nuts, an equation most would call failure. Scatter-brained, scurrying to and fro, they zig-zag up and down seeding entire forests of misplaced memory. The high-achieving human, on the other hand is scored with a different sort of metric, asked to give 110%. Anything less is simply sub-par, not good enough. What grace can be learned from the forgetfulness of squirrels? Whose lost acorns make mighty oaks grow?
Your turn!
Is there a poem-in-progress you’d like to share?
Do you have an unlikely hero in your life?
What character flaw or weakness might you re-imagine as strength?
P.S. If you haven’t watched Andrea Gibson read poetry to this very special squirrel yet, what are you waiting for?!
