I sit at my desk in the cozy room I call my library. I face a small picture window. All summer I look at the rake leaning up against the tree, at the patch of bare dirt I want to make into a shade garden, at the fence in the back of the yard and the expanse of green behind it where a herd of deer pass by multiple times a day, driving my dog into frenzies of barking. The days are getting cooler, and sooner than I’ll be ready for I’ll be looking out at snow. But for now I still see green. And squirrels.
I’m at my computer concentrating on writing. I’m working on my novel, a poem, a Substack piece, editing for a client. I’m in the groove. I’m getting words on the page. In the corner of my vision is a streak of gray!
SQUIRREL!
I’m on a Zoom, trying to explain something. An idea, my feelings, an important point. I’m taking the long way around the block to do it, as I’m wont to do. I’m about to get to the point, the crux of the matter, the resolution. I look up from my screen, because that’s what I do when I’m giving something some thought.
SQUIRREL!
I gaze out the window. I’m contemplating the nature of existence. I’m asking big questions. I’m trying to place myself somewhere in the vastness of the cosmos. I squint my eyes a little as I ponder, reflect, ruminate. I’m going deeper and deeper.
SQUIRREL!
I’ve always said my ADHD brain works just like Doug the dog in the movie UP. My propensity to be distracted is a real thing. Sometimes it’s a distraction that interferes with performing a task, finishing a sentence, completing a thought. Sometimes it’s the allure of the sparkly new thing, whether that’s an idea for a novel, a project in the house, a new business, an art project, or an insight. When the metaphor comes to life as I sit at my desk in my library, with actual SQUIRRELS! I find it hilarious.
Our lives give us opportunities to learn lessons. That’s how I think of it, for myself. And sometimes there seems to be a theme, until I learn whatever that lesson is. The Universe––God, a Higher Power, whatever you believe in––is trying to teach me something. Apparently, The Universe is tired of trying to teach me this thing though and It has a sense of humor. So It is smacking me on the head with…
SQUIRREL!
I think the lesson is that I don’t have to be distracted; I have a choice. In this particular situation, I can move my chair, turn my desk, close the window shade, go into another room. The lesson isn’t about the SQUIRREL! or even about being distracted, it’s about choosing my life and making choices when I can.
Our lives are full of things we have no control over. SQUIRREL or NO SQUIRREL is one thing I can control. I can choose to not be distracted by SQUIRRELS! I can take my automatic response out of the equation and change what I do have control over. I can choose focus. Or I can choose SQUIRREL! I can do nothing, not change anything, and know it’s my choice to continue being distracted. Distinguishing the choice part is the key.
I think the lesson the Universe is trying to hammer into my head is the Serenity prayer, which I say every day.
Higher Power, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Or maybe The Universe is trying to make a dent in my extreme dislike of all rodents? Sometimes these things are so hard to know.
SQUIRREL!
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A nice spin on the potential distractions - and your ability to change or choose. It's good to find ways to interpret these moments and lessons, right. Even that extends control over the situation. And it doesn't have to be either/or. Sometimes, you might do any of those things you noted to eliminate the distraction. Sometimes, maybe you just stop and appreciate that the distraction pulled your attention away from work for a bit and invited you to look out the window and appreciate the view (even if not the squirrel). It does sound like a nice space from which to write and work. It's been years since I saw snow. Lol.