Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
(08:11:01 am) …a grey shape in the road ahead… not clear what, it’s grey about 6 inches longways across there is much to do at work today… I really hope I can find a way to keep up, there’s tremendous opportunity in keeping with what I am working 7 days a week to achieve, I know I can do it but I know that thinking as I am about the challenges bring, maybe inevitability though I am personally inclined to say deliberately is the threat of screwing up and losing more than I’m gaining… hey, it’s a dead squirrel, won’t have a problem avoiding it, the traffic is pretty light…must be windy out there, the tail is waving…
(08:11:02 am) …oh fuck, it’s moving (no need to swerve I’ll pass right over it)… the squirrel is not dead (yet) it’s moving, flexing the muscles of it’s body any way it can. (I think), there’s no sense of terror or even pain in these movements, (no, I can’t say why I feel can make this statement with assurance, but I do), what I get from this brief impression is (that) there is determination, everything in the movements is shouting, ‘must move’.. it has the nature of a rippling effect along the torso, so much so, that, what I see is not a squirrel like those we all see, running up a tree …the head and the tail ‘are’ the squirrel for us on every other day, except for today… right now, what I’m witness to is a shape in grey fur, moving with a singleness of purpose to get away from where it was… my stomach hurts, in that non-medical way that clarks feel when coming into direct contact with emotion… and not a ‘memory story’, the tales that play in our heads about the past… no this emotion causes a physical response, a rolling of the stomach that made all the thoughts that I had since waking up, thoughts dealing with my day and my work and how to organize (my day and work) how to avoid failing… all evaporated…disappeared…without a trace, because all that was in my mind was the feeling of how awful/how sad
(08:11:03 am) the rearview mirror shows one more movement. I can see the car behind me swerve …(god, it’s making progress across the road) but the car after that one is too close to see and swerve and how fuckin hopelessly pointless and how sad and yet, I recognize that within me is this difference…maybe only a clark will identify with how, I felt about how I felt, a sense of powerful quiet, the now-seemingly-frivolous-planning of a day… gone, replaced with this….feeling. and from that feeling came the hope. (now this will make no sense to most reading this), the feeling of hope was grounded in the awful feeling that possessed me, with the image of the squirrel’s single-minded effort to simply move, move away. maybe this hope is nothing more than a (momentary) silence, a quieting of whisper and reminders of fear the fear of failure, the fear of success, the fear of not living.
(08:11:04 am) thank you, Mr or Mrs Squirrel… you have changed my day today…
Beautifully written. I have totally have that sick Clark stomach now. Damn. :(
This is powerfully written. I remember watching a big box turtle cross the street in his slow determined way. I stayed at the stop sign watching him slowing cross, and a car sped right over him and splat. I was shocked, upset and I kind of feel like that right now. (That was 40 years ago).
What Ivy said, except I have a sick Scott stomach.
And so it takes such a moment….to remind a clark….there is no day, no moment except today and now.
Of the 3, it is a clark who would honor the squirrel by giving thanks to him.
Eggsactly, Denise.
Every day I pass fur angels on the road and send up a mindfulness prayer for them…
I always wonder if I should invest in a little shovel so I can move the wee ones from the road so they don’t have to lay there…exposed…subject to wheel after wheel…
I always think about them. And sigh when it hasn’t worked out for them to cross the road. And then I hope that there was no suffering.
But I want to somehow say good-bye…to every last one of them…
Wow. I’m almost speechless. Like you, I’m sick to my stomach when such a thing happens. I have never thanked the animal before. So much to learn from clarks…
Poor squirrel.