Life lessons from a raccoon

This is an excerpt from Jarod K.Andersons beautiful book "Something in the woods loves you."

It can be romantic to glean life lessons from herons and hawks and deer leaping through thickets, but there are many seasons in my life when what I really need is the teachings of raccoons. The primary thing raccoons seem to do is thrive. They thrive in non human spaces and wild spaces. They are versatile, intelligent, and exude an air of crafty stubbornness. 

I saw the raccoon in my mind and he asked “Who says survival has to be pretty?”

Sometimes I need a heron to be my contemplative guide. Sometimes I need a deer, antler-crowned, or a bluebird like a living shard of cloudless summer sky. But that autumn when my newfound mental health was collapsing around me, bedraggled in sweatpants, hounded by barking worries like hunting dogs, I needed a raccoon, a trash-goblin, a clever little cutthroat with Dorito dust on his whiskers to stand among my dirty dishes and whisper, “It’s not what you eat, or how you eat, but that you eat.”

Yes, nature is soaring eagles, hundred-foot pines, and leaping marlins glistening above the seafoam, but it’s also raccoons armpit deep in a discarded peanut butter jar. 

My raccoon tapped on the door to my thoughts, and I decided to let him in. As he rummaged through my snack drawer, he said, “Stop thinking survival needs to be graceful.” He munched Goldfish crackers and spit crumbs while giving advice. 

“Who cares if you’re a mess? You think you’re in a beauty contest right now? Trust me, you ain’t. You think every day needs to be a poem? Pal, you’re mentally ill. Cheat. Steal. Eat fast food twice a day. Whatever it takes. Just breathing counts as “doing it.” This is what a win look like right now, got it? If a stray dog chases you up a tree, better to be grateful for the tree than pissed that dogs exist.“

He shrugged his furry shoulders and went on eating. 

The effort of just enduring deserves to be celebrated. Actually and vehemently celebrated. 

Enduring isn’t a consolation prize. It’s a win. Change is always coming. Enduring is sometimes our way of meeting that change halfway. In some contexts, in the midst of some hardships, surviving counts as thriving. 

This was the process, collecting moments, gathering understanding, welcoming vulnerability and experimentation, and letting time do what time does: bring change and perspective.