You are…Tiny. Shivering. Cute. Quiet. A grey fur ball with pitch black eyes; that you are. Looks don’t always win compassion…and there is a lot going on in the media against favoritism of your species at the moment. There is the latest mice plague in Australia sure to get all the human beings already dead set on freaking out, trapping you, flushing you, killing you all in another heightened state of species annihilation tizzy. The gossip in the larger species realm of consciousness has oft focused on your spread of disease.
You have felt ripples of dis-ease among the human being you are currently sharing space with. Somewhere on your energetic tether consciousness cord~line is info of the human’s dissatisfaction with finding your little poop trails amongst where the food is prepared and cooked in the mornings, but you never hear anger from that one….just sighs of acceptance that this is the way it is. This particular human sends psychic messages of not really being happy about death traps and mice death in principle despite the poop disturbances in the kitchen. The others who share the living space set traps for you and refuse to clean up food particles which entice you…with an allure akin to a miniature disco ball spin and sped up woodland creature vocals of the mice kingdom Classic sung by As(Cyndi)ng Lopper, Crumb After Crumb, soundtracking. The passive human is bothered by the others lack of cleanliness, but again doesn’t force the issue. The passive human has silently been daydreaming they might be able to catch and release you instead of take your lifeless body out with the trash.
You are a tiny, scared little mouse and right this second you are hiding behind a plastic shower curtain landscape of Paris and the Eiffel Tower in stoic fright because sometime in the night you got trapped in this human being home’s bathtub. You need help, but you are afraid. A human has entered the bathroom and sits pooping parallel to you unaware of your present predicament next door. He is reading on his porcelain throne. Your tiny body receives a sudden energetic might and illuminating gust of bravery. You are a cute little mouse trapped in a bathtub and it is time to face your fear and let your presence be known. It’s time. 3…2…1…
I am reading an old opinion article by Justin Torres. Fully engulfed in the read when all of a sudden I hear a rustle of a tiny nature in the bathtub. A tiny mouse. Just a peek-a-boo “I’m Here! A Spazz! I’m Here! A doofus with a magic trick of a body! I’m Here! I’m Austere…aaaannnnd…I’m.stuck.” A quick minuscule u-turn. Long enough to be visual. To let me know you are, in fact, quite here…aaaannnnd.stuck. You are afraid when I see you, yet you needed me to see you. You hide back behind the shower curtain having made your presence known. You make a couple of bustling sounds with your feet and go quiet. Now is the time I have been waiting for. Thank you for your bravery, little giant. I will finish the last few paragraphs of this read and determine how to set you free outdoors without harm. I finish reading, flush and step over to lift your barrier of protection, the shower curtain, out of the tub and reveal…
You. You are in freak mode…your body is propelling like a rocket up the sides, but you are unable to get enough height. Eventually you just sit on top of the drain and wait looking up at me.
I squat down at the side of the tub and have a little chat with you:
“Hi there, little guy, I see you are stuck. First I want to let you know that you are ok. I am not going to harm you. I am going to take you outside alive. You are scared and I see you as me. Because I see our oneness reflecting I see your divinity. I am going to go find a solution to your stuckness and be right back. Don’t be afraid. This is for your freedom, little one.”
I go on the hunt for a cardboard box sussing out the best way to coax you into such a mode of transportation for your own good. At first I consider cutting out a hole or a mouse door into the side of one of the cardboard boxes with pocketknife. Then I see a message that says “Do Not Use Knife” and even though I could still attempt the knife I decide there is a better way. I choose a deep box with a closing lid and lie it on its side within the tub. I am concerned that the box will prove to be too shadowy and scary for you to just go into without hesitation, but somehow I sense this is the right choice.
You are skittish and when the box is laid on its side at first you Are Not Having Anything to do with it. In fact, you run the length of the bathtub twice to protest this scary shaped ufo in the tub. You pause just to the top right of the tub and are diagonal to the box. Next you…
…Despite having a conversation with you about your safety you seem like your consciousness is not vibin’ on the same wavelength as you squeak rebelliously and run away from the box…up and down…up and down…twice; the full length of the bathtub quite upset. I suspect I will have to go get a second longer utilitarian box to set it as a guiding perimeter to lead you into the side laying box…then the beautiful miracle of consciousness happens and confirms you did, in fact, listen and on some mice-cinian level understand me because next thing I know you are walking obediently into the box without further complaint. You are peaceful and calm…and I am able to walk you outside to a pile of old rubble and gently lay down the box on the ground for you and, just like that, you are gone…Free.
I am content and happy and joyful feeling the kindness of setting you free. I, naively, believe you are the only mouse and that you were properly exited out of our house and that there will be no more poop on our counters. Win~Win. I go inside and sit and meditate on the experience of consciously speaking with you and your understanding and willingness to go into the box because it was good for you and a bridge back to nature for you. I begin to think about how in my own life at the moment I have a lot to learn from you: When it comes to desperately needing employment and needing to pay rent and worrying about the future of a relationship with someone I deeply care for who was calling me to step up and bravely take work that might be scary and trust that by letting loose my grip on the person I care for so much there may, in fact, yield a deepening bond without force. I, too, had found myself behind the shower curtain afraid and when I would scurry out to let people know I was in a predicament I was presented with perspectives and feedback from loved ones that I did not want to hear: “You have to take responsibility; no one can save you except you.” “You cannot live in illusion any longer; you need work- hard work to keep you busy.” “I need space; you need space; you need to figure out things and so I likely won’t see or speak to you again until I return from my trip home.” I understand how I am stuck in a bathtub of my own demise and how I need to set down deep intentions and speak them daily like the box. I understand I need to humbly accept the scary, dark of whatever employment I can get as a bridge out of being stuck…like the box.
I decide to put in the work. Turn in application at our local organic grocery and vallah- I am employed in a matter of days…and enjoy the work as an added bonus.
Thank you, little giant. In seeing myself in you and your sitch I was able to see the benefit in sometimes accepting what appears to be scary, at first, and choosing not to self-sabotage stitches which turn out to be helpful mediums for correcting lifes little stagnant glitches.
Oh yeah, and motherfuck (!) apparently you weren’t alone because next day I woke up to further evidence of more poop-counter culprits. Thought I finally nipped that sitch in the bud. There are further life lessons here, as well.
No regrets, Mr. Jingles….we both just gotta keep on trekking on. Another Great Surrender after another Great Surrender.
After sharing this mouse story with my friend Bob he replies, “Great story! Love Got the Job Done!”