Chipmunk

All of my adult life,
I have felt
this small chipmunk of fear
running a labyrinth
in my chest,
lost and panicked.

The thoughts that
really get it going:
Am I enough?
Am I doing enough?
Is there something
that I should have
accomplished, but didn’t?
And on and on.

You get it.
Existential questions
without answers.

Give me any kind of day-
hot, cold, sunny, rainy,
and I can darken it
with these angsty questions.
I am really good at that.

I try to assure myself
with my “so far”,
but the past is so big,
full of successes
and failures.
I bet you can guess
what I focus on.

And yet.

In the moments
when I can soften my thoughts,
I have a feeling,
an intuition, I suppose,
that what is most vital
is also mostly unmeasurable,
mostly invisible.

What really calls me then is
acceptance,
compassion for the hurting,
simplicity,
connection to the Divine,
peace,
loving those I love.

All just words,
but they blow life
into the warm flame
of hope.

And they seem to calm the chipmunk.

Acceptance.
The chipmunk slows down.
Compassion.
The chipmunk stops
and looks around.
Simplicity.
The chipmunk finds
some wood chips.
Connection.
The chipmunk builds a nest
next to my heart.
Peace.
The chipmunk curls up.
Love.
The chipmunk sleeps.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Laurel Thornton