Twitch
At the house we have wonderful deck. In warm weather I head out to the deck with a yoga mat and practice some yoga. After yoga, I'll sit down for some quiet meditation in the morning warmth. The squirrels in the yard have become quite used to us out on the deck and will often visit. One squirrel, we call him Twitch, has taken to visiting and accepting peanuts. He sits with us, awaiting peanuts, while we chat or decompress after a long day.
One morning after my yoga, I sat for some quiet time. To my surprise a squirrel, Twitch, crawled into my lap and settled. Amused, I settled into deep meditation. The shackles of the mundane fell away and my awareness became alive. The sound of the breeze in the pines took on a new timber. The feel of the sun on my skin and the warmth of a nestled visitor brought a sense of gratitude and ease. Images began to filter into my mind with a new vibrancy.
I found myself experiencing the climbing of trees and delighting in the discovery of an uncracked nut. I felt the thrill of the game of chase with another squirrel and the freedom of leaping from branch to branch and tree to tree. I was exhilarated.
When it was time, I began the process of re-entering waking life. My friend too began to stir. No sooner than my eyes opened, Twitch leapt up and looked me straight in the face. “Motorcycle,” he said.
“Motorcycle?” I inquired.
“Motorcycle!” he said again.
We ran into the garage and he pointed to my bike. “Motorcycle,” he said again. So I strapped on my boots and grabbed my helmet. I wheeled out the garage door, my new friend jumped straight onto the gas tank. We were off.
Here in Colorado we have scenic highway that winds through majestic mountains. The roads swerve and weave. And at midday in the middle of the week there is no traffic to inhibit the experience. Twitch loved it. I picked up the pace and leaned into the curves. He fearlessly moved between the headlamp my shoulder and the tank. As the bike moved, so did Twitch.
I didn’t notice a drone showed up and followed us.
By the time we arrived back at the house video footage of us cruising through the mountains had been posted. My phone began to ring off the hook. It seems that Twitch had become a star of the internet.
It wasn’t long until requests for appearances and product endorsement deals started rolling in. Harley Davidson sent us a tiny HD helmet for Twitch to wear. Nut companies couldn’t get enough of Twitch. He had his own line of leather pet wear and signature luggage.
I drove him to the airport as he embarked on a world tour of motorcycle shows. I was able to follow his progress on Instagram and YouTube. It seems there wasn’t a country or show or fair that didn’t want him to come and ride a bike. He even appeared in Paris to model his line of motorcycle inspired pet ware.
At first he would call or email every day or so. Then his contacts dropped off. He would occasionally but dial me and I could hear raging parties in the background. I got used to a drunk phone call from him now and then.
Until one night he called. “I can’t do this anymore.” I could hear in his voice something had broken. “What am I going to do?”
“Come home” I said.
“Can’t” he said.
“Come home” I said again.
“I don’t remember what home is.”
I picked up one strung out squirrel at the airport. He had accumulated quite a bit of luggage, and baggage, on his travels. I had to wrestle the cigarette out of his little hands when he tried to light up in the car. When we got home, he stumbled up to the guest bedroom and didn’t show until the next morning.
When he got up he needed coffee. Our regular coffee didn’t cut it. I had to run to the store for the fancy kind. Back at home, coffee brewing, I found him checking social media from the sofa. I asked if he wanted to go outside. He stared with disbelief. “Motorcycle ride?” I asked and got an eye roll.
I headed out to the deck for some Yoga. He watched in a bathrobe and slippers. His impatience showed when I came in from my meditation. He was ready for breakfast and his first martini. “This sucks,” he said.
“You want to feel better?” I asked. I think the question shocked him. “Lets loose the cigarettes and booze.” He was visibly shaking. “Yoga in the morning and no social media after 3 pm.”
“Coffee at least” he said. I agreed. His coffee was pretty damn good.
The first week was tough. I think he was sneaking Jack Daniels from the blue jays. And he may have bribed the raccoon to bring him butts from the neighbors trash. Even so, we started a routine. He would tell me stories about bike trips in the Alps or the Himalayas. He’s met celebrities and stayed in swanky places I couldn’t even imagine.
I kept our yoga practice outside and on the deck. At first he resisted and quit early. As the fog cleared he seemed to enjoy the moving meditation. He would sip his coffee during my meditation. Then one day he wandered into the grass. I saw his nose catch the scent of the pine trees. He found a nut, came back to the deck and crawled into my lap.
Things really began to change after that. Other squirrels would come and sit with us. Soon he was chasing them and chattering. He relocated back to his old nest and we kept his memorabilia in a case in the guest room.
He lost his phone one day and remembered it again a week later. It was okay being lost.
One morning after yoga he crawled into my lap again during meditation. Images of squirrel life and the joy of being alive arose within me. He was alive again.
You can come home.
At the house we have wonderful deck. In warm weather I head out to the deck with a yoga mat and practice some yoga. After yoga, I'll sit down for some quiet meditation in the morning warmth. The squirrels in the yard have become quite used to us out on the deck and will often visit. One squirrel, we call him Twitch, has taken to visiting and accepting peanuts. He sits with us, awaiting peanuts, while we chat or decompress after a long day.
One morning after my yoga, I sat for some quiet time. To my surprise a squirrel, Twitch, crawled into my lap and settled. Amused, I settled into deep meditation. The shackles of the mundane fell away and my awareness became alive. The sound of the breeze in the pines took on a new timber. The feel of the sun on my skin and the warmth of a nestled visitor brought a sense of gratitude and ease. Images began to filter into my mind with a new vibrancy.
I found myself experiencing the climbing of trees and delighting in the discovery of an uncracked nut. I felt the thrill of the game of chase with another squirrel and the freedom of leaping from branch to branch and tree to tree. I was exhilarated.
When it was time, I began the process of re-entering waking life. My friend too began to stir. No sooner than my eyes opened, Twitch leapt up and looked me straight in the face. “Motorcycle,” he said.
“Motorcycle?” I inquired.
“Motorcycle!” he said again.
We ran into the garage and he pointed to my bike. “Motorcycle,” he said again. So I strapped on my boots and grabbed my helmet. I wheeled out the garage door, my new friend jumped straight onto the gas tank. We were off.
Here in Colorado we have scenic highway that winds through majestic mountains. The roads swerve and weave. And at midday in the middle of the week there is no traffic to inhibit the experience. Twitch loved it. I picked up the pace and leaned into the curves. He fearlessly moved between the headlamp my shoulder and the tank. As the bike moved, so did Twitch.
I didn’t notice a drone showed up and followed us.
By the time we arrived back at the house video footage of us cruising through the mountains had been posted. My phone began to ring off the hook. It seems that Twitch had become a star of the internet.
It wasn’t long until requests for appearances and product endorsement deals started rolling in. Harley Davidson sent us a tiny HD helmet for Twitch to wear. Nut companies couldn’t get enough of Twitch. He had his own line of leather pet wear and signature luggage.
I drove him to the airport as he embarked on a world tour of motorcycle shows. I was able to follow his progress on Instagram and YouTube. It seems there wasn’t a country or show or fair that didn’t want him to come and ride a bike. He even appeared in Paris to model his line of motorcycle inspired pet ware.
At first he would call or email every day or so. Then his contacts dropped off. He would occasionally but dial me and I could hear raging parties in the background. I got used to a drunk phone call from him now and then.
Until one night he called. “I can’t do this anymore.” I could hear in his voice something had broken. “What am I going to do?”
“Come home” I said.
“Can’t” he said.
“Come home” I said again.
“I don’t remember what home is.”
I picked up one strung out squirrel at the airport. He had accumulated quite a bit of luggage, and baggage, on his travels. I had to wrestle the cigarette out of his little hands when he tried to light up in the car. When we got home, he stumbled up to the guest bedroom and didn’t show until the next morning.
When he got up he needed coffee. Our regular coffee didn’t cut it. I had to run to the store for the fancy kind. Back at home, coffee brewing, I found him checking social media from the sofa. I asked if he wanted to go outside. He stared with disbelief. “Motorcycle ride?” I asked and got an eye roll.
I headed out to the deck for some Yoga. He watched in a bathrobe and slippers. His impatience showed when I came in from my meditation. He was ready for breakfast and his first martini. “This sucks,” he said.
“You want to feel better?” I asked. I think the question shocked him. “Lets loose the cigarettes and booze.” He was visibly shaking. “Yoga in the morning and no social media after 3 pm.”
“Coffee at least” he said. I agreed. His coffee was pretty damn good.
The first week was tough. I think he was sneaking Jack Daniels from the blue jays. And he may have bribed the raccoon to bring him butts from the neighbors trash. Even so, we started a routine. He would tell me stories about bike trips in the Alps or the Himalayas. He’s met celebrities and stayed in swanky places I couldn’t even imagine.
I kept our yoga practice outside and on the deck. At first he resisted and quit early. As the fog cleared he seemed to enjoy the moving meditation. He would sip his coffee during my meditation. Then one day he wandered into the grass. I saw his nose catch the scent of the pine trees. He found a nut, came back to the deck and crawled into my lap.
Things really began to change after that. Other squirrels would come and sit with us. Soon he was chasing them and chattering. He relocated back to his old nest and we kept his memorabilia in a case in the guest room.
He lost his phone one day and remembered it again a week later. It was okay being lost.
One morning after yoga he crawled into my lap again during meditation. Images of squirrel life and the joy of being alive arose within me. He was alive again.
You can come home.
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