The Chipmunk's Secret: Why Nature's Most Joyful Hoarder Holds the Key to True Abundance
There's a chipmunk in the blackberry thicket outside my studio window, and she's having what can only be described as the time of her life. Her cheeks are stuffed to cartoonish proportions with dark purple berries, she's practically bouncing as she runs to her cache site, and she returns immediately for more with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for winning the lottery.
This isn't the frantic hoarding you might expect from a creature preparing for winter. This is pure, concentrated joy in the act of gathering. And it turns out, this little berry bandit holds one of the most important lessons about abundance that humans consistently get wrong.
Welcome to the fourth card in my 21-card Dark Naturalism Affirmation Deck: "Abundance." Because sometimes the most profound wisdom about having enough comes from watching a chipmunk work a berry bush like she's struck gold.
The Science of Enough vs. Never Enough
Let's talk about what makes chipmunks such abundance masters, because it's not what you'd think. Researchers studying chipmunk behavior have discovered something fascinating: these animals don't actually gather more food when resources are scarce. Instead, they become more efficient at processing the resources available.
When blackberries are abundant, they focus on blackberries. When acorns drop, they pivot to acorns. They work with seasonal abundance rather than fighting seasonal scarcity. This is radically different from human anxiety patterns, which typically involve worrying about future scarcity while surrounded by present abundance.
The difference isn't in the action (both anxious humans and confident chipmunks collect resources), it's in the energy. Scarcity thinking says, "There might not be enough." Abundance thinking says, "There is enough now, and more will come when needed."
Chipmunks also display what animal behaviorists call "caching confidence"—they remember where they've stored things and trust their ability to find resources when needed. They don't stress-check their caches daily or hoard beyond their actual storage capacity. They gather with presence, store with confidence, and rest with trust.
That's some seriously advanced abundance psychology right there.
Berry Clusters: Nature's Abundance Design
Here's something worth noticing: nature's most nourishing gifts tend to come in multiples. Blackberries, elderberries, grapes, rowan berries—they cluster together in generous handfuls rather than growing as single, precious units.
This isn't botanical coincidence. Plants that produce clustered fruits are essentially investing in abundance psychology. They're offering more than any single animal needs in the moment, ensuring some berries get eaten (spreading seeds) while others get cached (planting future forests). It's an evolutionary strategy that works because it feels abundant to everyone involved.
The clustering also creates efficiency for gatherers. Instead of searching for individual berries scattered across the landscape, animals can harvest significant nutrition from a single productive bush. The abundance is concentrated, making the gathering both effective and deeply satisfying.
Compare this to scarcity-based plants like truffles, which grow individually and require intensive searching. Those plants have chosen the "rare and precious" strategy. Berry bushes have chosen the "generous and reliable" strategy. Both work, but they create entirely different psychological experiences for the creatures depending on them.
The Foraged Pile: Your Abundance Foundation
Every chipmunk maintains what researchers call a "primary cache"—the main storage area where the majority of gathered resources live. But they also create smaller secondary caches throughout their territory. These aren't backup plans born of paranoia; they're evidence of abundance thinking made manifest.
The primary cache serves as more than just food storage. It's a tangible reminder of gathering success, a physical representation that says, "I am capable of finding what I need." Every addition reinforces this identity: "I can do this. I have been doing this. I am good at this."
Archaeological evidence shows humans have been creating similar abundance displays for thousands of years. Paleolithic peoples created decorated caches and ceremonial storage areas that served psychological as well as practical functions. Medieval root cellars were often elaborately constructed, turning food storage into a source of pride and security rather than anxious hoarding.
The difference between abundance caching and scarcity hoarding lies in the relationship to the stored resources. Abundance caching creates confidence and enables generosity. Scarcity hoarding creates anxiety and demands guarding. Same action, completely different psychology.
Where Scarcity Thinking Actually Hides
Here's the tricky part about scarcity mindset: it rarely shows up where you expect it. Most people can identify obvious scarcity thinking around money or material resources. But scarcity thinking is sneaky. It disguises itself as practical wisdom, showing up as:
"I should save my energy for more important projects." (Energy scarcity) "I can't focus on too many things at once." (Attention scarcity) "I need to be realistic about what's possible." (Opportunity scarcity) "There's not enough time to do this properly." (Time scarcity)
Sometimes these are genuinely wise resource management strategies. But often, they're scarcity thinking wearing a responsibility costume.
The chipmunk test: Does this limitation energize you or drain you? Does it feel like efficient focus or fearful restriction? The chipmunk's gathering is clearly energizing—she approaches berry collection like the best possible way to spend an autumn morning. That enthusiasm is information.
The Psychology of Seasonal Abundance
What makes chipmunk wisdom particularly sophisticated is its seasonal intelligence. Right now, autumn gathering is the focus. But come spring, territory establishment and mate selection take priority. Summer brings offspring care and territory defense. Winter means resting and living off stored resources.
The chipmunk doesn't try to gather berries in February or hibernate in June. She doesn't feel guilty about not gathering when it's time to rest, or about resting when it's time to gather. Each season has its own version of abundance, its own rhythm of enough.
Medieval European cultures understood this seasonal abundance psychology. They had gathering festivals, preservation rituals, and celebration traditions that honored different types of seasonal wealth. Harvest festivals weren't just about food—they were about recognizing and celebrating the specific abundance available in that moment.
The scarcity trap is trying to do all seasons at once, or judging yourself for being in the "wrong" season. The abundance approach is recognizing that sometimes abundance means gathering, sometimes it means focusing, sometimes it means resting, and all of these are equally valuable and necessary.
Abundance vs. Hoarding: The Crucial Difference
Let's address the obvious question: How is abundance gathering different from anxious hoarding? Because externally, they can look identical.
The difference is relationship to resources and relationship to sharing. Abundant chipmunks cache efficiently but don't guard obsessively. They'll share territory with offspring and tolerate other chipmunks in areas with genuinely plentiful resources. Anxious chipmunks hoard inefficiently and guard obsessively, often losing resources to spoilage rather than sharing strategically.
Abundance operates from trust: "There is enough, and I am capable of finding what I need." Hoarding operates from fear: "There might not be enough, and I must control what I can while I can."
Historical human examples show this distinction clearly. Traditional food preservation—making jam, drying herbs, root cellaring—was abundance behavior. It was often done communally, shared generously, and celebrated as seasonal wisdom. Modern extreme couponing or panic buying is hoarding behavior. It's done secretively, guarded anxiously, and driven by fear rather than seasonal rhythms.
The abundance approach creates security through competence and community. The hoarding approach creates anxiety through control and isolation.
The Dark Naturalism Deck Grows
This abundance wisdom joins a growing collection of nature-based affirmations grounded in actual animal behavior rather than metaphorical thinking. "Begin" taught us about starting before we feel ready, drawing from beaver persistence and fireweed's pioneer courage. "Shed" invited us to release what no longer serves, following garter snake growth cycles and bracken fern renewal. "Creativity" encouraged us to follow the spark and make our way, like foxes turning urban constraints into innovative solutions.
Now "Abundance" reminds us that enough already exists—we are enough, we have enough, and we can welcome more from a place of trust rather than fear.
Each card in this 21-card collection grounds its wisdom in real natural intelligence: the actual biology of how plants and animals create resilience, abundance, and authentic thriving. Not nature as metaphor, but nature as teacher, showing us strategies that have worked for millions of years.
I'm sharing each card's story as I create them, building this deck one insight at a time through the winter months. When I'm three-quarters through the collection, I'll launch the full deck through Kickstarter. But for now, these weekly explorations of dark naturalism wisdom continue here.
Creating Your Own Abundance Practice
The action prompt for this abundance card cuts right to the practical heart of the matter: "Identify one area of your life where you operate from scarcity—fearing there's not enough time, love, opportunities, or resources. Write down one small way you could shift toward abundance thinking in this area."
This isn't about forced gratitude or toxic positivity. It's about honest assessment of where fear might be masquerading as wisdom, where hoarding might be disguised as preparation, where scarcity thinking might be limiting actual abundance.
The chipmunk doesn't ration berry-gathering enthusiasm or save energy "just in case." When the berries are ripe, gathering is the practice. When winter comes, resting is the practice. Each season gets full presence and appropriate action.
What if you approached your own resources—time, energy, creativity, love, attention—with the same seasonal intelligence? What if you trusted that using energy generates energy, that sharing abundance creates abundance, that gathering with joy is more effective than hoarding with fear?
Join the Abundance Intelligence
If this natural abundance wisdom resonates—if you're ready to learn from teachers who have never doubted that there is enough—follow along as I create this deck throughout the winter. Join my email list for behind-the-scenes insights into each card's creation and first access to the Kickstarter launch when it goes live.
This collection is for people who find profound guidance in watching how competent creatures actually live. It's for those who understand that the most important lessons often come from the forest floor rather than the self-help shelf. It's for anyone ready to embrace the dark naturalism wisdom that abundance and death, gathering and releasing, having enough and letting go are all part of the same intelligent system.
The berries are ripe. The chipmunk is gathering with joy. And there is enough for everyone who's ready to learn from nature's most successful abundance practitioners.
What's ready for some chipmunk-level enthusiasm in your own life?
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This is the fourth card in my 21-card Dark Naturalism Affirmation Deck—a collection exploring how Pacific Northwest plants and animals teach authentic abundance, resilience, and seasonal wisdom. Follow my email list for updates as I create each card and first access to the Kickstarter launch.