Bedridden from a post-infectious autoimmune disorder, unable to get out of bed or sit up, author Elisabeth Tova Baily once found uncommon companionship and solace in a forest snail that stowed away on a potted violet from a friend. After discovering a tiny hole in an envelope next to the flower pot, Elisabeth decided to feed the snail something tastier—a petal from its violet-hued woodland. It proceeded to munch, quietly, on the petal for over an hour—this tiny, intimate sound offering Elisabeth a distinct feeling of togetherness and purpose, sustaining a small creature in need. She became fascinated by the snail’s feeding habits, its sleep rhythms, its gentle insistence on survival.Elisabeth spent the following year observing the snail, becoming the inspiration for her memoir, "The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating," and helping her through the most isolating period of her life. In exchange for daily foliage snacks, the snail fed Elisabeth with life lessons: how a smaller aperture of attention can soothe frayed nerves, that survival depends on “a relationship, a belief, or a hope balanced on the edge of possibility,” and how looking outside our own painful circumstance, out of a limiting “if-only” mindset, we are freed from self-imposed conditions on peace, happiness and contentment. Through Elisabeth’s gentle, devoted attention, this tiny woodland snail mirrored the miraculous and simple wonder of her own existence—even while pinned to a bed suffering the time-warp of illness. Sometimes presence is the easiest, most accessible balm for all that ails. Have you offered or received a healing presence lately?
One of my favorite books! Thank you for reminding me of it...I read it before getting sick, and it moved me then, but meant even more to me after getting sick. For the first time in a long while I am able to offer, rather than receive, healing presence, mainly in the form of opening my tiny home to others for morning coffee/tea or a simple dinner.
What a gift you are offering to friends! I found myself, for a moment, jealous that I don't live near you. I'd love to be part of those simple gatherings. I imagine your space is an extension of the wise, reflective warmth you offer in your writing.
I spent three weeks at a psychiatric clinic at the beginning of 2022. It's a relatively small and beautifully designed building, with a central courtyard/atrium. When I arrived there was an almighty snail infestation that became a surprising delight as I reckoned with the severe anxiety of being at the clinic. I was, obviously, there to get help, but admitting myself was one of the most challenging things I've ever done. I live on a small holding, so being in a hospital for a couple of weeks was also challenging for me, in that it removed me from nature. The snails were my saviour. I would watch them slug up the glass of the atrium, as if yearning for the freedom I wanted to. I was also learning that 'slow and steady' was going to win this 'race' and so they seemed a fitting metaphor too. At one point some of the other patients decided to clean up the atrium garden and 'de-snail' it. They really were a problem, and we filled a few bin bags with the creatures. But some escaped us... And I was secretly delighted 😉 I think I need to find this book of Elisabeth's... 🤔😍
Ohmygoodness! Not only do you need to find Elisabeth's book, but I think you need to meet each other! She would delight in your story. How cool that those snails were there for you, both physically and metaphorically, when you needed them. Sounds like the staff didn't recognize their value, as most people don't, but I'm glad to hear a few escapees were able to continue there services. :)
You know I don't think I realised just how cool and significant they were until I read this piece of yours and related my story... It feels like I can look back with more delight over them 😊 there were A LOT of snails and they were killing the garden so the 'culling' was understandable haha... But yes, I am glad some remained too! 😉😁
Definitely adding her book to my wishlist and going to check out her website... And who knows maybe when I have a chance to visit the US of A again, I can look her up 🤗
I am intrigued by the title and wonder what sound a snail would make... if any? "It proceeded to munch, quietly, on the petal for over an hour—this tiny, intimate sound offering Elisabeth a distinct feeling of togetherness and purpose, sustaining a small creature in need. She became fascinated by the snail’s feeding habits, its sleep rhythms, its gentle insistence on survival." 👌👌👌
May sound corny but everyone I pick a flower from my garden or some produce I have a feeling of presence and healing from whatever I am doing or thinking or feeling in that moment.
You're so welcome! I much prefer wonder that sneaks in, quiet and unassuming. I'm recalling a moment at a planetarium a while back—the giant abyss of dark sky opened up as the lights went out and one child unraveled into a horrific, terrifying scream. Too much, too overwhelming, I suppose. I get that! Give me snails any day. ;)
As I wait for an emergency surgery slot... for the septic shock, hernia, and perforated stomach wall caused by last week's emergency surgery... I am so glad for the book recommendation :)
Alisa, OMG. You're really getting dragged through it right now. Septic shock is... YIKES. Beyond scary. And after an already scared incident. I bet you're feeling pretty over it by now. I hope you're surrounded by a superb team of doctors and good love. Yes, this book may be a comforting companion if you can muster the energy to read. Wishing I could beam myself over to you now and read it out loud. Keep me posted on your recovery. Hugs and big love.
Lucky to have a trauma surgeon in our mad little tribe here. Grateful for you and know you the work of getting well all too well. You capture it so poetically. xo
Ugh! Instant restack - this is gorgeous! 🥰🥲❤️
Snails munching. Sigh. I've often wished to be miniature. I would happily share violet petals with snails for the rest of my days.
One of my favorite books! Thank you for reminding me of it...I read it before getting sick, and it moved me then, but meant even more to me after getting sick. For the first time in a long while I am able to offer, rather than receive, healing presence, mainly in the form of opening my tiny home to others for morning coffee/tea or a simple dinner.
What a gift you are offering to friends! I found myself, for a moment, jealous that I don't live near you. I'd love to be part of those simple gatherings. I imagine your space is an extension of the wise, reflective warmth you offer in your writing.
What a beautiful truth!
Thank you Elisabeth!
I spent three weeks at a psychiatric clinic at the beginning of 2022. It's a relatively small and beautifully designed building, with a central courtyard/atrium. When I arrived there was an almighty snail infestation that became a surprising delight as I reckoned with the severe anxiety of being at the clinic. I was, obviously, there to get help, but admitting myself was one of the most challenging things I've ever done. I live on a small holding, so being in a hospital for a couple of weeks was also challenging for me, in that it removed me from nature. The snails were my saviour. I would watch them slug up the glass of the atrium, as if yearning for the freedom I wanted to. I was also learning that 'slow and steady' was going to win this 'race' and so they seemed a fitting metaphor too. At one point some of the other patients decided to clean up the atrium garden and 'de-snail' it. They really were a problem, and we filled a few bin bags with the creatures. But some escaped us... And I was secretly delighted 😉 I think I need to find this book of Elisabeth's... 🤔😍
Ohmygoodness! Not only do you need to find Elisabeth's book, but I think you need to meet each other! She would delight in your story. How cool that those snails were there for you, both physically and metaphorically, when you needed them. Sounds like the staff didn't recognize their value, as most people don't, but I'm glad to hear a few escapees were able to continue there services. :)
You know I don't think I realised just how cool and significant they were until I read this piece of yours and related my story... It feels like I can look back with more delight over them 😊 there were A LOT of snails and they were killing the garden so the 'culling' was understandable haha... But yes, I am glad some remained too! 😉😁
Definitely adding her book to my wishlist and going to check out her website... And who knows maybe when I have a chance to visit the US of A again, I can look her up 🤗
Eloquent and very touching essay.
Thank you. I think we're all a bit starved for simple wonder these days.
I so agree 🧡
I am intrigued by the title and wonder what sound a snail would make... if any? "It proceeded to munch, quietly, on the petal for over an hour—this tiny, intimate sound offering Elisabeth a distinct feeling of togetherness and purpose, sustaining a small creature in need. She became fascinated by the snail’s feeding habits, its sleep rhythms, its gentle insistence on survival." 👌👌👌
May sound corny but everyone I pick a flower from my garden or some produce I have a feeling of presence and healing from whatever I am doing or thinking or feeling in that moment.
Not corny at all! I feel such awe and gratitude whenever I harvest... Like what? This grew in my backyard?
Kimberly, this was beautiful!
Such an uplifting story.
And you wrote it so well.
Thank you for sharing this, it was a welcome reminder of the power of staying present and finding wonder in the mundane.
You're so welcome! I much prefer wonder that sneaks in, quiet and unassuming. I'm recalling a moment at a planetarium a while back—the giant abyss of dark sky opened up as the lights went out and one child unraveled into a horrific, terrifying scream. Too much, too overwhelming, I suppose. I get that! Give me snails any day. ;)
“Quiet and unassuming” 👌
I would do ANYTHING to hear that sound. Immediately bought the book.
I see a potted violet in your near future too. ;)
As do I!
This is a delicate and tender meditation which may be the only kind.
I like those two words—delicate and tender. They feel like friends I want to have over for tea.
As I wait for an emergency surgery slot... for the septic shock, hernia, and perforated stomach wall caused by last week's emergency surgery... I am so glad for the book recommendation :)
Alisa, OMG. You're really getting dragged through it right now. Septic shock is... YIKES. Beyond scary. And after an already scared incident. I bet you're feeling pretty over it by now. I hope you're surrounded by a superb team of doctors and good love. Yes, this book may be a comforting companion if you can muster the energy to read. Wishing I could beam myself over to you now and read it out loud. Keep me posted on your recovery. Hugs and big love.
Lucky to have a trauma surgeon in our mad little tribe here. Grateful for you and know you the work of getting well all too well. You capture it so poetically. xo
I do. Let's huzzah together when you're out of the woods.