Exclusion

From the spindly branch, the squirrel fell into the river. Usually so deft and dexterous, once in a while, things go wrong and a misplaced paw leads to a cold, unwanted submergence. But not to worry, squirrels can paddle with those tiny paws and perhaps their obscenely bushy tail can serve as a rudder of sorts. Once surfaced, the squirrel begins to paddle toward shore, to safety, and supposedly back to family and to the nest. It stares ahead and perhaps sees the land blurry on the horizon and swims toward it, patiently not seeming to panic. It is a nice, mild day after all. There is but one issue that I would have wished to bring to the squirrel’s attention, and that is that it should have considered perhaps turning around before swimming off, because now it was heading toward the opposite shore from where it fell. And the river being wide enough at this point to perhaps negate any future chance of recrossing, this error will perhaps lead to a future life of exclusion from the past life it has known and presumably very much enjoyed. Foot by foot, it carries itself to safety but farther away from home. Why can’t you just turn around and see, it’s right there behind you, very close by. The unwilling and unwitting self-exile continues as the distance from home furthers on in time and distance.

Perhaps I exaggerate and am positing an unlikely scenario, for the squirrel very well might have laid on the rocks and dried out for a bit; and then sniffing around, realized what had just transpired and, after resting up for a bit more time, recrossed the river back home to mom and dad, grandma and grandad, cousin Suzie, his/her mate. But, by this time, I had turned back and paddled on, alone, upon my own quixotic journey of exclusion. The river is wide but not exceptionally. It is deep but not quite so much. It has a strong current but not that strong to prevent a knowledgeable paddler from going back upstream. Looking around, you try to get your bearings, remember things that might help guide you, weigh your options and try to make sense of the situation. But your mind can play tricks on you as you try to determine which path to take. It’s sometimes hard to be aware of when to turn around and courageously start paddling back or to just let the current, or your own inertia, carry you farther away from your comfortable dray, but closer to something else, God knows what.