The "Stupid Evil" Squirrel

I spent a week over Christmas break in Kansas City. One morning, I was having a hot cup of coffee while reading the morning newspaper with a friend in her kitchen. I was sitting at a round-table next to a large glass window facing her backyard covered with white snow. As I peered out the window enjoying the expansive green and white outside, I noticed a medium sized squirrel approaching the house. When all of a sudden, I heard: "that stupid squirrel"; and a few moments later: "It's evil."

I was startled, no longer enjoying the beauty of the outdoors, and my awareness shifted to the statements made by my friend. There was at least one other name that she called the squirrel before she called herself "stupid" for some other reason.

I was alarmed for my own safety because I have experienced that same kind of judgment towards me; I was also confused because my cup of coffee hadn't worked its clarity magic yet. As things happen, my friend quickly went on to talk about other things, and I wasn't able to verbalize my experience; I need extra time to process ideas in the morning, but her comments were bothering me nonetheless. On the inside, I was concerned for my safety, peace and wanting to contribute to my friend's well-being, but I didn't know how.

I worried that if I spoke at the time, that she would hear a criticism, so I let it go. That afternoon, I tried to express my honesty concerning something totally unrelated, and I could see and hear her apply that same judgment toward herself totally breaking down our connection, leaving me frustrated and she experiencing some hurt.

We both needed a "timeout" and went to an outdoor jogging track. After sprinting one mile, I returned to the car for a nap while my friend completed her workout.

Our ride back to her home was uneventful, but I requested some time alone with her in the kitchen. We sat down at the same round table, and I told her calmly that I wanted to share some information with her, but I was worried that she would hear a judgment. I asked if she was interested in hearing what I had to say, and she said "yes". The following is my recollection of the dialog that took place in my conversation with my friend Lesley (I changed her name to protect her privacy):

"Lesley, I'm concerned at your response to the squirrel yesterday." "Would you like to hear what comes up for me?"

"Yes", my friend replied with a worried look on her face.

"I heard you call the squirrel 'stupid', 'evil' and some other name that I can't remember." I was guessing that my friend was afraid of judgment, so I tried to convey a desire to connect and understanding with my voice tone and body posture. "I am worried that you are trapped in a box of judgment and I want to contribute to your freedom." "Would you be willing to tell me what you heard me say?"

Lesley said, "that you are worried and want to contribute to my freedom?"

"Yes", I said. "I'm wondering if you could tell me more about what goes on with you regarding the squirrel because I'm confused by your response." "What's behind your calling the squirrel 'stupid' and 'evil'"?

Lesley said, "That damn squirrel digs up my plants in the spring, eats up all of the bird feed making a mess in the yard. And I'm afraid that he'll dig a nest in our home, bite into an electrical wire in the house causing a fire."

She gave me three reasons before I had the chance to give her empathy, so I picked the last one in her list.

I said, "So, you are afraid and wanting to keep your house safe?"

"Yes", she said. "And I have to spend a lot of time in the spring replanting my flowers after the squirrel digs them up."

I replied, "Are you feeling annoyed because you want more ease, less effort, and to protect the beauty of your garden?"

"Yes." she said. "It’s a lot of work to plant and replant the flowers."

I responded: "So, you'd like some acknowledgment for the effort it takes to replant the flowers?"

"Yes." she said.

I noticed that her body posture was starting to relax a bit, as her explanations got shorter, the sound level of her speech decreased. I wanted all of the issues to be addressed, so I asked: "Are you also feeling annoyed when you see the bird feed shells scattered around the feeder because you want more beauty and order in your backyard?"

"Yes." she said, almost in tears.

I was guessing that she had received enough empathy for now, so I asked to give my honesty. I asked her: "Would you like to know what went on for me when I heard you calling the squirrel 'stupid' and 'evil'?"

"Sure!" she said enthusiastically.

I said, "Lesley, when I hear you call the squirrel 'stupid' and 'evil' I get scared that you'll turn that judgment towards me, and I'm wanting consideration and acceptance." "Would you be willing to tell me what I just said?"

"That you are scared of my judgment?" she said. I noticed that she heard what I didn’t want instead of hearing what I did want. She was hearing part of my honesty.

"Thanks Lesley." I said. "That was close." "I really want you to hear that I want consideration and acceptance, which are the needs behind my fear of judgment.” “Would you be willing to tell me that?”

My friend seemed to be hearing me more carefully now. “So, you are want acceptance and are afraid of judgment?” she said.

“Yes.” “Thank you.” “I also want you to know that I felt some sadness because I lost connection with you." “Would you be willing to tell me that?” I said.

“That you are feeling sad because you lost connection with me?” She said.

“Thanks Lesley.” “So, how do you feel at hearing me say that?” I asked.

“Gosh, I had no idea all of this was going on.” “I’m especially sad that we lost connection.” “I know I have a tendency to judge, but I didn’t know how this affected others.” She said. After recognizing that we had a common understanding of our experience, I turned our attention toward the squirrel.

“So, Lesley, what do you think is motivating the squirrel to do the things it was doing?” I asked.

Then Lesley and I explored how the squirrel was getting its needs met. It buried nuts underneath the plants to protect them from the cold and save them for later – meeting its needs for security. The squirrel was eating the bird seed because it was hungry – meeting its need for sustenance. And the squirrel occasionally digs into homes to build its own shelter. My friend came to the realization that she was connected to the squirrel somehow; that both she and the squirrel had similar needs for food and shelter.

I was sensing that we had a full connection and deep understanding, given that both of us had given our honesty, and gave empathy to the squirrel guessing at its needs. I knew that my friend read the bible every day, so I added something for her to ponder. “Lesley, do you remember in the book of Genesis when Adam and Eve bit into the apple from the forbidden tree of the knowledge of good and evil?” She nodded. “Well, when you cast judgment on the squirrel you are doing the same thing.”

My friend had a flower arrangement in the middle of the kitchen table which happened to have apples in it. I grabbed a red shinny apple, and took at huge bite out of one for emphasis. “You are playing God with the squirrel, thinking that you have the power to cast judgment.” “And you also turn that judgment on yourself.”

We laughed a bit after I made my point with the apple. My friend expressed her gratitude to me in helping her see something that was hidden to her.

Later that day, she looked at the front page of the newspaper, and said “that stupid person, she …” It seems that old habits are hard to break.

I looked up to her, she looked down to me, and I said: “It’s not about the squirrel.”