Little Mouse

Little Mouse

Apr 07, 2023


Where are you going, little mouse?


I step into the bathroom and spy a tiny friend.

His eyes perched on the side of his head told me that he or she feels afraid, caught in an unfamiliar element.

Briefly startled, I sense a smile growing—a kindred spirit to the energy behind the spooked eyes.


I freeze, unwilling to let go of the moment.

I watch my mouse friend scurry past my feet out and into the other room where I was to lay my head.

I wait, unwilling to cause any fear, smiling and wondering—where will he go?


Gingerly, I step out.

Now, what?

I peek under the bed.


Nothing.

I glance under the bedside table.

A tiny head behind the leg.

The same friendly, bugged-out eyes.

I lean back.

The tail stretches out an inch or so.

My friend.


What harm could be caused, I ask?

How could he or she possibly crawl onto the bed?  

I fuss with my computer.

Turn on, please.  I need you.


As I hit the keys, my friend returns—on the bed.

For a brief moment, I feel a sense of apprehension—a mouse, on my bed—what if I lose him or her? What if she climbs on me in the night?

Quickly, the sense of wonder returns.

What if I lose this moment?


I sit.  In a very still mode, I type.

At this very instant, the mouse creeps down the fleece jacket that I perched at the end of the bed.

Three or four times it crosses the bedspread—like a player on a field running for the touchdown.

At this instant, I lose sight.

Where is my friend?

What do I need to do to liberate him or her?

What do I need to do to liberate myself from the fear of falling asleep?


Over and over, my friend crosses the bedspread.

It seems that climbing onto to the bed might be much easier than climbing down.

Maybe she doesn’t know how?

I wonder.


In this unique space, I love the journey of being an artist—the journey of fascination—the journey of the moment.


Aaahhh, my friend finds the ground again.

I see her or him in my periphery vision—though I don’t move, other than these fingers on the keyboard that she can’t see.

How can I help her out?


Time to go.  I have a job to do.

I have a friend in need of freedom.   


I feel the heartbeat as I gently place my jacket on my friend.  I feel the fear, the instinct, the trembling.  I feel my own heart jump at the movement, the heat from that tiny body, the unknown.

I feel the joy, as I release my friend into the outdoors and watch her run away into the night.

I will sleep well, this eve, as I hope you will too, my friend…


That’s A View From The Ridge…


Best-selling author, Ridgely Goldsborough has written 19 books to date, 5 on emotional intelligence, and has developed a phenomenal program called Partner Attraction Formula that you can get absolutely free as a member of the Groove community. Also, visit Mind Types for a FREE and fun quiz that will give you a new perspective!