10 a.m. is chipmunk time

I have a sassy chipmunk.  He lives under my front walk.  Each morning at 10 a.m. he hops up on the decorative driftwood on my stoop and chirps.  And chirps.  For a good five minutes straight, he will tell his story to the world.  Here is a photo of him (taken through the window screen, so a little hard to see). 

Is he happy?  Angry?  Just making noise?  What? 

This reminds me of my favorite episode of the old TV show Northern Exposure.   The doctor's mother comes to visit, and she is a non-stop talker.  Talk, talk, talk.  The Inuit character Marilyn likens her to Ukatangi before he became the eagle (see below).  Then, one day, she hikes to the top of a cliff.  Busy watching the eagles that she loves as they soar, she trips and falls.  Instead of plummeting to injury and death, however, she floats to the ground unharmed.  She becomes quiet and reflective, in stark contrast to how she was before. 

Maybe we can all learn from this.  How many times do we allow ourselves to be caught up in our own agendas, our schedules, our tasks?  Do we ever stop to see how we fit into the whole?  In the Oneida world view the eagle has holistic vision.  He sees the whole, the entirety of the world, unlike the hawk who sees only his target.  I believe that many of our societal ills result from a loss of perspective.  Our worries and cares fill our minds, leaving little room for wonder and understanding.  How much more peace would we experience if we only stepped back and saw the world from the eagle's eyes?  Let's find out.

My pledge for today: be the eagle, not the hawk.  Enjoy the story and music below, friends, and be the eagle if only for a day!
 http://en.kendincos.net/video-jftvflrn-ukatangi-the-talker-original-song.html

Ukatangi

The eagle wasn’t always the eagle. The eagle, before he became the eagle, was Ukatangi, the talker.
Ukatangi talked and talked. He talked so much, he could only hear himself. Not the river, not the wind, not even the wolf.
The raven came and said, “The wolf is hungry. If you stop talking, you will hear him. The wind, too. And when you hear the wind, you will fly.”
So Ukatangi stopped talking, and soon heard the wind rushing by. In the quiet, he could hear the directions of its currents, swiftly lifting and falling. The music of the wind changed Ukatangi’s nature, and he became the eagle.

The eagle soared, and its flight said all it needed to say.