Squirrels are common, but gifted creatures. Ask any backyard bird-lover if they have squirrel-story and they’ll share a frustrating narrative of how they tried in vain to prevent a squirrel from eating the bird-seed from their feeder; they are savvy, persistent, and creative. My dog, Adeline, has chased many but caught none; they are quick and elusive. Sit in a local park and you’ll watch social creatures run up and down trees, leap from branch to branch, and scurry across the length of the most narrow rope or line; squirrels are graceful creatures.
Their carcasses also litter the shoulders of our roadways.
. . . .
I saw him from 75 yards away. As I came around the bend, he lifted his head from the ground and looked directly at my vehicle. I was only traveling 45 mph, and I lifted my foot from the accelerator. I started coasting and he didn’t move. I held my line; I’d let him choose his best path to safety.He held his position as I drew nearer. I began to depress the brake pedal a little, and he began to move: first right, then left. Then right, and left, and right and … [thump].I can’t imagine what it must feel like at that scale, something seemingly as large as a house hurtling at me at great speed, but it seemed to render him incapable of the simplest decision: left or right?
For the last week I had been laboring over a simple decision: should I stay or should I go. Should I continue to work where I was, where I was valued, and where I was fairly and consistently compensated, but unhappy … or … should I leave that behind for employment where I am lowest in seniority and paid (for better or worse) based on my productivity, just for the chance of a career that is a little less strained? Should I leave the unfulfilling flawed world of middle management, and re-dedicate myself to the often-unfulfilling and still-flawed world of patient care? I didn’t know, until I watched that squirrel wrestle with a simpler, but more stressful decision.
I imagine that he had discovered the means of stealing bird-seed from humans intent on keeping it from him, escaped a variety of predators, and safely jumped between thousands of trees or traversed miles of line over his lifetime and never erred or hesitated. But when – to preserve his life – he only needed to decide between left or right, and either would have saved him, he ultimately decided to remain in place … that was the same moment when I decided to make a move.
Mine wasn’t a life-or-death decision, but it was one that I was wrestling with: Do I or don’t I?
Do I or don’t I?
Do I or don’t I?
Do I or don’t I?
Today, I am giving notice … I’ve seen what happens when one decides to remain in place for fear of making the wrong decision.