Lessons from a Mole

For three wet days, a mole ran up and down the soggy drive looking for food and gathering nesting material, her tunnel flooded but a nest needed.  Creatures of the dark, moles only rarely emerge into the light.

Moles do not see or hear well, relying on their sensitivity to vibration to alert them to danger.  She took no notice of my presence close by, however, fearless in her need and determination to be and do what she was called to do; she was visible and exposed, and lucky not to have been taken by one of many hungry predators criss-crossing the garden and the skies constantly.

At dusk on the third day I saw the animal digging under a grassy weed with her powerful, spade-like feet and disappearing from sight.  Later, I checked under the grasses and saw a small hole leading down under some stone steps, the mole’s entrance to her tunnel now accessible, and her usual way of life.  She was safe, and apart from some mounds of soil that had been thrown up, I saw no sign of her again.

Despite my concern for her well-being, I made no effort to interfere in the mole’s activity, knowing that I could not alter her purpose and that to try to move her would create stress for her and a bite for me, and do no good.  It was not my place to try to change her, just as it is not my place or in my ability to try to change anyone but myself.  The boundaries are clear, but it is easy to forget in a well-meaning but sometimes forgetful world.

As the mole snuffled and burrowed and danced under leaves and hedges looking for grubs and worms, she was untroubled by the postman and other visitors who stopped to look at and admire this beautiful velvet creature, so seldom seen.  Her absorption was in her need to ensure her survival and the future of her species as she prepared to breed, and she seemed to be enjoying life too.

Once upon a time, many millennia ago, we too, as people living in a harsh world dominated by predators of a human and animal nature, focused upon finding the food we needed and upon helping and protecting our community, accepting life was often hard and short and for that reason making the most of the finite amount of time we had in a life on Earth.  How times have changed! We now are the key predators, though Gaia can and will still surprise us, and so often our interest is on ourselves in a way that can verge on self-absorption.  For those who are fortunate, food is easily and effortlessly available and money can buy anything we need for an easy, comfortable life where entertainment comes from mind-numbing gadgets and our finite time in a life is not valued but becomes something, somehow, to be filled.  

The growth of the wellness movement is a reflection of this, where self-care can become almost narcissistic in the pursuit of a perfect body, the perfect diet, the newest supplements and the latest therapy.  These interests, which can derive from FOMO and a lot of ego, turn pragmatism into desire and waste precious time as well as money; keeping up can be hard work and ultimately ineffective. It is right, of course, to feed our bodies healthily and to look after them respectfully, but to live simply and well, to prioritise the well-being of others and to value gratefully the sands of time we have been allotted can give us so much more. 

The mole in my garden took risks but for a good reason:  she was determined to survive harsh conditions, to prepare for her family and to enjoy her life in the moment.  Looking outwards and not inwards can bring each of us, too, a sense of adventure and wonderment, and gratitude in the privilege of being alive on Earth.