Reflections on Critters
why raccoons, frogs and opossums live rent-free in our collective mind
Hello Mortals,🥀
I’ve felt very much in a feral era lately and these reflections feel personal and also very collective.
I’m sure ya’ll noticed that these small nighttime beings keep showing up in our collective imagination. From protesting frogs to trash pandas, to opossum cuties and rat boy culture, they seem to have become teachers for a very mortal moment.
Societal beliefs can often make us feel unnatural for not always showing up at 110% 24/7. It is normal to feel exhausted in this modern world and to say no, I need rest, I will not over work, over produce or over perform.
I’ve been connecting with these little feral energies and archetypes since last summer taking notes of how humans might connect with these cute and cringey critters while holding grief and joy all in the same breath. I’d love to share reflections on how they might be able to honor and remind us that we don’t always have to be performing or doing things perfectly.
Find your fave little feral critters below and let me know if they resonate.
Raccoons carry the energy of messy resilience. They remind us that not every season of life is polished. They dumpster-dive their way through life with a kind of shameless pragmatism. They remind us that survival doesn’t always look elegant. In a world of burnout and pressure to be polished, the raccoon says: your imperfect coping is still coping. There is something honest about their smudged faces and cute little paws. An invitation to honor the parts of us doing the best we can with limited light. My heart just melts when I see these neighborhood critters climbing trees or garbage hunting.
Frogs can speak to our longing for slowness and damp, earthy belonging. They’re tiny sages of the in-between. Water and land, stillness and leap. Frogs might appear when we need to remember the wisdom of pausing, the holiness of the puddle, the rightness of being a little squishy and vulnerable. Frog energy asks us to soften into our grief instead of outrunning it. It’s ok to be slimy. This is part of their existence and we could honors ours a little more gently at times. When we want to be kind to our slimy squishy selves we can turn to the frog for grounding and cleansing from water to land.
Opossums embody defensive softness. Their whole nervous system is built around overwhelm. Freeze, flop, survive is how they do it. They play dead, a process called thanatosis. And yet they’re harmless, shy, night-tending creatures. They mirror what so many of us feel: the world is too much, but we’re doing our best. Opossums reassure us that retreat is also a survival skill and that playing dead is often a sign the system needs rest, not shame. They are gentle, nocturnal survivors who remind us that retreat is also a valid holy act. In a world with too much noise, the opossum might tell us that shutting down for a moment is a body’s way of keeping itself alive.
These creatures are popular right now not because they are trendy, but because they hold up archetypes we need.
They tell the truth about this era:
that we are tender, exhausted, improvising our way through and still trying to care.
Maybe that’s why they keep showing up. They’re tiny creaturely mirrors, reminding us that resilience is messy, that softness is sacred, and that survival is sometimes beautifully feral.
With care and creativity,
Liz 💙
Yes, I love them all!! Racoons wash their hands and their food!