Conversation with a Squirrel

At the beginning of this past winter, I signed up for my annual Vipassana meditation retreat. It’s something I return to each year, not because I expect to “fix” myself, but because it gives me space to slow down and listen more carefully to what’s going on inside and around me.

Vipassana is really about that kind of quiet observation. Instead of trying to change anything right away, I’m learning to simply pay attention to my body, mind, thought patterns—all with a bit more patience and curiosity. With each retreat, it becomes more obvious to me how easily I take my immediate perceptions as the full picture.

The Buddha suggested that much of our suffering comes from this habit, that is, treating what we sense or think as solid reality, without questioning it. It’s not a flaw as a very human tendency. Vipassana helps me see this and go beyond appearances just a little more clearly.

One day, during my lunch break, I was walking along a narrow forest path lined with a little snow when, just to my right, a red squirrel appeared. Naturally, as soon as it saw me, it ran off, crossing the path to the left. Without really knowing what came over me, I said softly, “Hey! Don’t be afraid! I won’t hurt you.”

And there, about six metres away, as if it had understood, it stopped in its tracks and turned around, staring at me, standing on its hind legs. “You know, you don’t have to be afraid of me. If I hurt you, I’d be hurting myself,” I said.

Imagine my surprise when the squirrel came back to the right, moving a little closer, still standing and staring me straight in the eye. That’s not what I thought at the time, but as I write these lines now, I like to imagine that it wanted to know more.

I glanced behind me; I didn’t want anyone to see me talking to a squirrel!

“You know, when I look at you, I see a charming little creature with four legs, fur, and a big bushy tail. I don’t know about you, but you probably understand that this big, strange creature is quite different from you. These differences, that’s apparent reality, the one we perceive with our senses.

“But if I dig beyond what meets the eye and consider what we are both made of, a whole other reality emerges. In fact, far beyond the subatomic particles that make up your body and mine, everything that exists in the universe—stars, mountains, trees, animals, and humans—is made up of only four forms of energy: heat, oscillation, hardness, and cohesion. There is nothing else: this is the ultimate reality of matter.

“We may think that our bodies contain these elements, but that’s not the case. These four elements form a field that not only extends throughout the universe, but they are the universe itself. There is no being or person separate from these elements. You and I are one and the same.

“Even on a mental level, there is no difference between you and me. Here too, our mind is the manifestation of four processes: consciousness, perception, sensation, and reaction. Apart from that, there is nothing else.

Once again, I looked around to see if anyone was coming. Talking to this squirrel would appear strange to someone walking by, but not to me, at least not at this moment. Besides, articulating these insights aloud helped me understand them more clearly.

As if to encourage me to say more, the squirrel crossed to the left, still getting closer. It was now only three metres away, standing on its rear and looking me straight in the eye. Naturally, that was all I needed to continue without seeming like a crazy person!

“Ok then, let me try to review what occurred a few moments ago. When you appeared right next to me, without knowing what I was, your eyes became aware of this shape. The same was true for me when you entered my field of awareness. These were acts of visual consciousness.

“Instantly, you labeled that shape: ‘something big approaching.’ For my part, I perceived a little squirrel running away. These labels were created by you and me. Science now recognizes that our perception of reality is not an objective image of it, but rather a subjective one. Science explains that thought participates in perception. In other words, perception is an act. A mental activity.

“In no time at all, you evaluated the image you yourself had created. In your little body, you felt something unpleasant, and you didn’t like it. On my part, because I perceived you as adorable, I liked what I felt. That’s the sensation part.

“Immediately, you reacted and chose to move away from what you perceived as a danger. That’s the action part, or what we call karma. And these four processes took place in a fraction of a second. What we try to see clearly during these meditation retreats is that we react to sensations that are the product of images of our own making. Unless one is trained to do so, it is very difficult to detect, because the process is incredibly fast.

“Thanks to this effort of inner exploration toward ultimate reality, I am beginning, little by little, to understand that this separation between beings is the product of our own thinking. In truth, there is no duality. You, me, the stars, all these trees, everything that exists is merely an expression of these characteristics. That is the miracle of life.”

The squirrel then traversed the path again, stopping right in front of me, almost at my feet. Seeing this tiny creature looking at me so intently, as if it understood that I could not possibly harm it, feelings of mettā generated spontaneously.

Nevertheless, when the little guy realized I wasn’t going to feed him, he headed off in the other direction, and I continued mine.