The Road Home
Not all roads or realities lead us ‘home.’ Where do you really want to go? Where are you NOW?
As the saying goes, “be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction.” As we move through our incarnations, like roles in various stage plays, we learn cleverness and adaptability in the form of shape-shifting and camouflage. We may not be aware that we are cultivating these skills, but our inner being knows. We are like the clever fox, protecting our ‘home,’ guarding it lifetime to lifetime from those aspects of ourselves that wish to keep us from it. We may have disguised our true natures from ourselves, but deep within, we know our way.
As a spirit guide, Fox creates new visions and gives swift guidance for overcoming obstacles.
Fox totem wisdom holds the power of infallible instinct, quick thinking, and adaptability. The only reason the fox species is alive on a large scale, as its habitat has been destroyed, is its cleverness. It is quick thinking and can ‘turn on a dime,’ utilizing whatever skills necessary to thrive.
Farm country, Rural Ohio ~ late 60’s: Mama Fox lived in the woods near our house. Presumably, her mate did as well, though I never saw him. I first met this little female one afternoon when the local hunt was in full swing, horns blowing, horses charging ahead. The club was using a drag rather than chasing after live prey, but Mama Fox was cautious. Sitting on my balcony perch, high in the trees above where the hill behind our house plunged downward, I noticed a flash of red and white darting swiftly through the brush and, seemingly, into the hillside. I cautiously climbed down to a bank on the hillside my father had walled in. The hill rose up along its end, covered in dead leaves, branches, and the deep tangy smell of autumn.
Creeping to the far end of the wall, I peered into a dark opening in the mound of leaves. Holding my breath, I leaned in and waited. My stealthy persistence was rewarded with a glimpse of soft fur and the deep musky scent of the den. I sent an inner greeting to my new friend and waited a few minutes more. Slowly and silently a delicate pointed nose inched toward the opening, then disappeared again. Happy that she hadn’t snarled or run, I moved quietly away. She had avoided the hunt and made herself at home.
A few weeks later my stealthy approach to Mama Fox’s den yielded the mewling sounds of new kits. Knowing better than to approach, I wished Mama well and left the little family alone. Foxes are known for being fierce family protectors and providers. Mama had found a protected place for her little ones just across the creek from the Hunt Club, nestled into the property of those who would shelter her. She returned, year after year, as long as we lived in that house. I watched her and learned.
Stamford, Connecticut ~ 2018: Early morning. Birdsong and a cup of tea. Looking out the kitchen windows between the hedges, I gasped in wonder as a large red fox trotted by. Here! In this neighborhood! How could that be? I later learned that there was a den nearby, on an undeveloped lot still overgrown with brush and trees. I had passed it daily on my walks and never noticed. Curious, this day, I paused in front of the low stone wall that separated the lot from the pavement and listened. Midday. Too many humans and dogs about. The den, if it existed, was quiet. The leashed dogs ahead of me hadn’t flinched as they passed. I shrugged and moved on. Fox medicine counts on this response to their watchful silence.
The next evening my friends returned from the city with leftovers from a business dinner. In one of the takeaway boxes lay the remnants of a large bone-in steak. “Do what you want to with these,” my friends commented, before retreating upstairs. I wasn’t hungry but thought I might try an experiment. I slipped out the door and walked quickly down the block to where I believed the den to be. There was a hint of musk in the air that was definitely not skunk. This must be it. I gently tossed the bone into the brush and retreated. Imagine that, I thought to myself, a den of foxes right in the middle of this neighborhood, filled with humans and big dogs and cats. And everyone lets them be!
The next afternoon, walking to the car, I almost tripped on what looked to be a thick, white stick. I bent to move it out of the way of the rear tires and saw what it was. The bone! It had been stripped bare, and ‘returned to sender,’ as if to say, “Thanks. We’re here and we appreciate it.” I only saw the fox twice more, early in the morning, trotting through the garden, on its way home. Just another neighbor, hiding in plain sight.
December 2021 ~ a bedroom community in the Rockies:
Critters aren’t strange to these parts, paved and domesticated as this subdivision is. I see eagles, daily, and early-morning coyotes, as well as the neighborhood feline brigade. A little skunk lives under the big blue spruce planted next to the front door. I’ve seen it in the middle of the street, only once. It keeps itself well hidden, like the rabbits that feed on tender shoots growing in the manicured landscapes hereabouts. I never thought to see a fox.
One morning, as I was processing boundaries in rather a large way, I looked out the back to see a grey fox jump down from the top of our fence and curl itself into a ball in the corner of the garden. With its tail across its face, it lay perfectly camouflaged under the hedge. All three neighbors on this side of the street have dogs. The area is full of cats. Owls keep the squirrel population down, but they’ve been slacking lately. Still and silent, the fox lay curled in a patch of morning sun. Drinking in starlight, it merged with a strange habitat and found its own sense of nurturing. When I returned to the window an hour later, it had gone. There, in the midst of urbanization, it somehow lived and had a home. I thought, “If a fox can do that, I can too. I can adapt, without compromising. I can blend with these surroundings. I can somehow be what I am, though my habitat seems far away. “
Uncertain circumstances can leave us worried, anxious, and sometimes dueling with despair. As a spirit guide, Fox leads us towards a solution already present, while honing our awareness, and assisting our ability to dream.
Have you ever noticed the tail of a fox? It acts as a balancing device for the body. It is also an energy balancer, when curled over face and paws, providing warmth and shelter. A home where home does not exist.
Fox wisdom helps you understand how to recalibrate and change to become more adept as things change more quickly around you.
As this month twists and turns, keep a strong sense of humor and pay attention, like Fox, to your life lessons, gifts, and abilities. Moving quickly and surely through what comes up will help you to develop new abilities and become the ablest version of yourself. The one you need, NOW.
Become discerning. What is tricking you? Where can you turn the tables and observe the observer? To what can you give your attention that will better serve?
Master the love that fox lives, and you may find the home that lives within you.
