Yesterday, a hedgehog stopped by our terrace. A rare sight to behold, I stepped out, checked on him, and took a picture. When he hid under our conveniently covered barbecue, at first, I moved it so he would as well. Naturally, he snuck right back into the shade.
I thought about moving the grill again, but then I figured: “You know what? Just let the hedgehog sleep. It’s not affecting you in any way.” A little later, I checked again and, indeed, found him sleeping beneath one of our seat cushions. I put the cushion back in its place and left him alone.
It’s now been 24 hours. Is the hedgehog still there? I have no idea—and actually, it doesn’t matter. A hedgehog napping on my terrace does not affect my day whatsoever.
What we perceive as a nuisance is often of little consequence. A snide remark by a coworker. A triggering tweet. An animal on our terrace. But the initial surprise catches us off guard and shocks us into a quick, unreflected reaction. We engage with the bait. We feel offended by this sudden incursion into our territory. And so we start typing, yelling, or poking the hedgehog when, actually, we could have just let it rest. The situation. The animal. The other person.
The next time life sends you an unexpected visitor, ask: Is this a required detour or merely a distraction? Whenever you can, let the hedgehog sleep, and stay on the path you’re meant to walk.
