The Raccoon Conundrum
“It will all make sense when you are a kid again.”
Recent painting of mine
I simply couldn’t understand why it was so hard for them to let go. I was sitting in my treehouse, reading a book about wilderness survival, and trying to figure out why raccoons would be so stubborn. I was maybe 12 years old, and thanks to my mom’s love of horses we lived on a good sized piece of property. The acres of woods that surrounded us were my stomping grounds. According to the book I was reading, you could construct a raccoon trap by making narrow hole in a log, then driving a few nails in around the sides (diagonally so that they pointed in towards the bottom of the opening) and placing something shiny in the bottom. A curious raccoon would reach his paw into the narrow hole to grab the shiny treasure, but then wouldn’t be able to get his fist back out because of the nails. He would remain too stubborn to just let the treasure go, and would be trapped. I never actually made the raccoon trap; it seemed too cruel. Besides, there were plenty of snacks still left in the fort, I wasn’t going to have to resort to trapping wild animals any time soon.
It takes an adult mentality to understand the raccoon conundrum, but a kid’s spirit and simplicity to understand how to escape. The raccoon is not a stupid animal; on the contrary, he is actually quite clever. Tests have shown that raccoons are capable of abstract problem solving and are adept at opening locking mechanisms, with the ability to remember solutions for several years. Why then, does he sit there, stumped by his own stubborn nature? Most people chase after their treasures (of one sort or another) in their twenties, and by the time they reach their thirties are clutching what they have, but feeling trapped by it in some way. When I first moved to Costa Rica, I had a conversation with a stranger in a little sunset beach bar. I have forgotten almost all of the details of that moment except for one thing that he said. He was apparently a rich man, but had only recently felt any sort of freedom in his life. He said “You never really own anything… usually you just become a slave to what you think you own. Don’t let your belongings or what you create determine you fate.” I was in the when you’ve got nothing there’s nothing to lose phase of my life at the time, so it took a decade for that advice to mean anything to me.
The “treasures” we cling to can be material items, relationships, jobs, or even social identities. All of these things are parts of modern adult life, and are fine to hold dear if you are happy with them; the problem is when you cling to them after they have become detrimental to your spirit. Sometimes it only means changing your perspective and opening up. Most days my child-like spirit keeps me free from the trappings of adult worries, but I haven’t completely escaped. When I do, I think my sunset beach barstool advice will be:
“An open hand gets you out of more trouble than a fist.”
Hey, Zach.
When you mentioned the raccoon story the other day it tickled something in my mind. I remembered it today. Below is a quote from a Buddhist monk that I used in my yoga classes a few years ago. A tangential thought on grasping…pura vida!
…
“To contemplate impermanence on its own is not enough: You have to work
with it in your life. Let’s try an experiment. Pick up a coin. Imagine
that it represents the object at which you are grasping. Hold it
tightly clutched in your fist and extend your arm, with the palm of
your hand facing the ground. Now if you let go or relax your grip, you
will lose what you are clinging to. That’s why you hold on.
But there’s another possibility: You can let go and yet keep hold of
it. With your arm still outstretched, turn your hand over so that it
faces the sky. Release your hand and the coin still rests on your open
palm. You let go. And the coin is still yours, even with all this
space around it.
So there is a way in which we can accept impermanence and still relish
life, at one and the same time, without grasping.”
~Sogyal Rinpoche