Of Signs and Squirrels

I am sitting at the desk in my office, looking out the window.  The back yard of the house that is now offices, in downtown Toronto, is partially covered in bright white snow.  The cloudless sky allows the sun to cast complex tree shadows on the dull brown fence and frozen earth.  The old trees soar up seventy feet or more and I gaze through their interconnected branches at the clear blue February sky.

Suddenly, my eye registers movement and I focus on the area where it seemed to occur but can see nothing but fence and trees shadows.  Again, it happens, somewhere else in the window-framed view of the yard.  Again and again, I move my eyes to the perceived movement.  And finally, my brain perceives the shape of a black squirrel on top of the fence silhouetted against the sky.  It is perfectly still but, after a few moments, it darts up one of the trees.  Now, knowing what shape to look for, I pick out four individual squirrels moving in fits and starts along the fence, up the trunks and through the shadows and branches.  And then, they disappear from view entirely.

It is Friday and I am a little fatigued as I wait for my next client to arrive.  This is the perfect state for simply looking out the window and paying attention to my own breath; a kind of meditation.  Behind the fence is a railway track, Canadian Pacific, and freight trains rumble by every half hour or so.  I see two people walking along the tracks.  One is carrying a travel coffee mug so they must be out for a walk.  Perhaps there is a path alongside the tracks.  A small airplane, bright and shiny in the sun, cuts through the sky and moves across my view.  It is easy to see as the white contrasts the azure blue sky.  It moves at a steady rate which my aging eyes appreciate.  Nothing like the black squirrels camouflaged in the shadows. 

I notice the breeze gently moving the dead brown stalks of last summer’s garden.  It is funny how movement “catches the eye”.  However, the wind is not strong enough to make the tree branches move.  I think about the perennial roots in the garden waiting under the snow for warmth and water.  Waiting as I wait for the next client.  Stillness, movement and waiting, my world becomes simple for the moment.  My breath moving in, pausing and moving out.  I find a still point in my busy life, this busy world.

Then the squirrels reappear chasing one another.  I know that this is the February mating ritual and that in 40 to 45 days, there will be baby squirrels born in their snug leafy nests at the tops of the trees.  Earlier this week, we caught scent and sight of a skunk, roused from his hibernation with the need to “off gas” before returning to his sleep for a while longer.  The days are noticeably longer and I got to my office this morning in the light after three months of arriving in the dark.  The sun feels warmer now, even on a cold day.  These are the signs of spring that occur in February.  Although there is still winter weather ahead, we recognize these age-old signs that foreshadow spring’s arrival, if we know what to look for despite the snow and ice.

Likewise, I scan the news, internet and stories that people tell me for signs of positive change, signs of hope in this world that is in transition.  It seems to be a time of reckoning.  Our chickens have come home to roost.  Colonial, capitalist, business-as-usual looks more and more harmful and precarious.  Women fight for the right to determine what happens to their bodies, in court, in social media and in their relationships.  Sexual assaults that were once “normal” are now seen as abusive.  No means no!  Indigenous people fight for the right to determine what happens on their territories, to the earth and the water, in courts, protests and on blockades.  Land that was taken without treaty is now seen as stolen.  Land that was stripped of its resources is now being protected.  No means no!

Things are changing.  I look for signs of people creating innovative solutions, co-creating new ways of doing business, new ways of collaborating to solve old problems, learning that no means no.  It is like watching the shadows carefully enough to see the squirrels moving through the trees, creating new life – hard to see, until you know what you’re looking for.

As we spot the signs, we are offered hope and inspiration.  We can join in whatever new stories excite us.  We can invest our time and resources in those and feel the energy of a new way of doing business as it is born.

There is a point in a Canadian winter when you feel as though it will never end.  That is why knowing what to look for is important to keep your spirits up.  I find people can easily feel that way about the state of the world – that it is hopeless.  But the squirrels have taught me to look carefully in tree shadows for signs of new life.  They are wise teachers and I am grateful for their gift.