Squirrels Galore: The Dichotomy of Trees and Squirrels in Those Films

Philosophers have long used ideas like yin and yang or lightness and weight to explain the makeup of the world. Here, I’d like to offer my own theory: the world is made up of big trees and little squirrels. The big tree stands silent, steadily pointing toward the sky. The squirrel darts between the branches—lively, charming, constantly complaining, and just a little annoying. As for me, I’m more like a complicated machine. Beyond the forces of family background and social conditioning, my free will flickers—barely there, yet stubbornly refusing to give in. Pulled in both directions, my mind constantly sways between the tree and the squirrel. That’s why I’m often drawn to films with depth and gravity—stories grounded in the weight of personal histories and quiet resilience. And especially when I come across characters who are even more chaotic squirrels than I am—that feeling of comfort? So real. So good