At the base of a tree in our front yard, a quiet standoff frequently unfolds.
A squirrel, nimble and quick with its tail twitching, inches toward scattered birdseed that’s fallen from the feeders above. (Yes, she is the one who knocked a bunch of it out with jaw-dropping acrobatics.)
Each delicious nibble is weighed against the cost, because on the other side of the tree trunk, one of our cats is crouching—still, patient, and alert.
Our cat knows the squirrel is aware of its presence. It also knows the odds aren’t great. But the thrill? It’s enough to keep our cat interested. It’s part of his daily dose of excitement.
The squirrel doesn’t run, for a while anyway. She knows the escape route—the tree itself—is only a leap and a heartbeat away. She knows her limits and wisely doesn’t venture beyond them. But she also knows how hard she worked to get that birdseed on the ground, so she dares to eat her reward. Carefully. Courageously.
Our cat doesn’t pounce. Not yet. He waits, savoring the closeness of the hunt, the sweet possibility of maybe. He may not catch the prize, but it’s fun to stay ready should the moment turn in his favor.
This quiet tension can teach us how to approach life. How to dance between risk and reward, instinct and desire, comfort and adventure.
Feeding the Adventurous Spirit
There’s a part of each of us that craves adventure—not skydiving or climbing Mount Everest necessarily, but the kind of adventure that wakes us up. Like…
Trying something new.
Starting that project.
Reaching out to someone.
Taking the leap when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
But we don’t have to leap blindly.
Like the squirrel, we can be thoughtful and alert. We can know where the tree is—our safety, our center—and still move toward something that excites us.
Like the cat, we can show up even when the odds are uncertain, because sometimes it’s not about catching the squirrel. It’s simply about being in the game.
Comfort is easy. Safe. Predictable.
But too much comfort leads to stagnation. And stagnation can feel like soul death.
The Choice at the Base of the Tree
So here we are, whether we’re the squirrel or the cat, both drawn to something just beyond reach. It would take a stretch and some risk to reach the prize and the prize has to be worth the effort.
What’s your birdseed?
What’s the thing you’ve been eyeing, but avoiding? What will meet your hunger? A new role? A fresh idea? A place you want to explore?
What if now is the moment to step
forward—not blindly, but bravely?
We are alive for more than just safety.
The thrill is in the try. The purpose is in the pursuit. The joy is in daring to chase something that feeds our spirits—even if we never quite catch it.
Calculated risks—stepping forward while staying aware of how just far to push ourselves—is what fuels growth, feeds the spirit, and brings life to the everyday.
Whether we’re chasing something, or just daring to taste what’s possible, we have to leave what's familiar and get closer. Close enough to feel the pulse of something new. Close enough that we might lose. But close enough that we also might win.
Are you hungry enough to take a step forward? To consider the risks and then go for it?
I'm not sure if I feel more like the squirrel or the cat today,
but I'll see you at the base of the tree!
