I do not love November.
There are many months I do love, but this period of vague color, rain, and cold do not serve my soul well. If I am not mindful, I sigh alot in November. I moan, whine and wish it were a month other than what it is.
Mindfulness is my personal pathway to ease, especially when I'm complaining. When my small self wants to get mired in what's not here (warmth, color, sunshine), mindfulness is my savior.
Most people have no use for squirrels. They find them annoying, at best. They eat the food intended for birds and wreak havoc when they get into your house.
But I like squirrels. Their antics rescue me from the November doldrums. We have two varieties here, gray and black. They rough and tumble together just like their cousins, Chip and Dale. I've watched them flip off our roof, pirouette on the deck, then engage in an in-flight wrestling match that would put Big Time Wrestling to shame. They make me laugh.
The one thing I do enjoy about November is how all of the leaves have taken flight and you can see, for the first time in months, where the squirrels live. Walk down any sidewalk, look up at the trees, and your eye will spy one gargantuan brown nest after another. Finding them makes me smile.
I love the idea of a mother squirrel tending to her young, harbored in a cozy brown leaf-cave. Her babies are safe there, protected from predators and young boys with BB guns, exempt from the wild winds of November which blow so harshly they take your breath away.
The simplest things—the creatures of nature, especially—have a unique form of wisdom to share. By the example of their very lives, they invite us, as human beings, to be well with what is ....
... To not resist, to go with the flow of life, to embrace what is here, right now, and to stop whining.
You'll hear no more November howls from me. That keening you hear is the wind in the trees singing her sad November song.
© 2012, Janice Lynne Lundy
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