Wild Woman – Page 23 – Karen's New York Love Affair

Glowing white stick lights up Monkey Valley!

I’m back at Monkey Valley for the month of November, working on a personal writing project. I arrived November 3, to balmy conditions. No frozen water pipes! The road was dry and easy to drive on! All systems were running in the house! It is so nice to reap the benefits of the ten years of work I have put into getting this place to run smoothly. And also nice to have the grace of a mild autumn.

I went into Merritt on Thursday to have the snow tires put on. I also ran into old friends at the Post Office and Espresso Etc., my favourite place for coffee and lunch. You can see the decaf I had in the photo to the right, where I was testing out my new technology: a glowing white stick that miraculously gives me internet service wherever I go! It was wonderful to catch up on news with people I haven’t seen for a while, and reconnect with this place that has been my home off and on for eight years now.

The real test was whether the internet stick would work at Monkey Valley. As you know, the cell reception here is notoriously bad. When I first tested the internet stick, aka Mobile Internet Key, I had to hold my laptop above my head, so that it was inches from the dome antenna I had mounted high on the wall. Obviously this was not a practical solution: my laptop is not the lightest on the market, and it is difficult to type à la Jimmy Page with the laptop over my head!

But I had a look at the cable I so carefully installed last summer (2009, was it?!), and saw that I could get some extra length out of it if I ran it straight from my upstairs bedroom, through the loft, below the railing, and down to the table below. Hence the set-up you see in the second picture. The dome is inches from the internet stick, and the signal is fairly reliable. Every now and then it still drops, so I need to be mindful about saving my work before doing any actions that might cause Internet Explorer to lose the page I’m in. And of course there is the risk of brain damage from working so close to the cell phone signal, which has been boosted and intensified by the booster upstairs! So I will do my best to minimize internet time this month.

The great news is, though, that I can use the internet for just $35/month (versus the $100+ I was paying for satellite internet). And with the dome antenna sitting on my TV, I can actually talk on the phone while sitting on the couch. No more standing on a stool trying to hear what my callers are saying! Things just keep getting better, don’t they!

Part 4: Speaking out for the wild ones

As so often happens, more information has revealed itself as I continue to ponder the mystery of the owl encounter. When I described what happened to another wild woman wilderness guide, she offered a new perspective, which I had not considered:

“You know, this story of yours is so fascinating. I was right with you there at the end when you said you weren’t sure that the owls were giving you medicine, as your teacher had suggested. It sounds to me like they were angry! They wanted you out of there!

“One thing occurs to me: have you made an offering to the owls? In that place where you encountered them? Maybe some food, some flowers, whatever else seems appropriate. Some prayers for them and their well-being and a statement of your own well meaning.

“Often, I think, we need not understand these close and mystifying encounters with the wild… we just need to reflect on them for all our days and be grateful to have been invited in so far and survived to tell about it. That on its own is sacred.”

Wow, what a sense of freshness to consider that the owls may simply have been REALLY ANGRY! This opens up a whole new area of thought, about how we have encroached so much on the wild places, leaving no room for the animals to have peace to live undisturbed. Perhaps the owls are spokespersons for the animal kingdom! My desire to help protect wild animals and wild places is strengthened.

Shortly after this I dreamt bears and deer were being raised for their parts, kept in a pen with underground tunnels. When I found out what was going on I forced a conservative red-neck type man to the ground, sat on him, and told him I was going to stop him and the others from killing animals. It was a very clear declaration. This dream was revealing my wish to do something more concrete to help change attitudes about the rights of wild creatures, educate people about the importance of preserving wild areas, and speak out for those whose voices are not heard.

I also appreciated the idea of making an offering to the owls. I had not thought of that, but I love this idea and will do so. It also feels freeing to consider the idea of not having to understand these mystical encounters with the rational mind and pin them down into a specific meaning. But to let them keep touching me in a not-knowing place for the rest of my life, with gratitude for the gift.

Photo credit: Great grey owl by Miguel Lasa. Used with permission.

Part 3: Seeking understanding and the wisdom of the owl

These encounters with the owls prompted me to do some research to learn more about them. A great resource I found online is The Owl Pages. I also consulted Ted Andrews’ Animal Speak, as always.

I learned that the great grey owl (gray to you American readers) is the provincial bird emblem of Manitoba. According to The Owl Pages, they are known to be very aggressive near their nest, and have driven off predators as large as black bears! I guess I shouldn’t feel too bad. They are one of the largest owls in the world, though the ones I saw were not as large as they can get: 28″ tall with a wingspan of 56″! Evidently they have lived to 40 years of age in captivity. No wonder there is a saying about the wise old owl!

These sources of information are helpful in extracting meaning from the experience, but the deepest meaning must come from within…

What does this have to do with my indigenous soul?

The day after the owl struck me there were scabs on my head. The owl had definitely permeated my physical boundary and entered into my body. I wished I had a wise teacher I could tell the story to, who could tell me what this meant. I wished I was in apprenticeship with a medicine woman or man who would guide and teach me. How can I be the guide, and the one whom others turn to for guidance, when I know so little? I have learned from many wise teachers, and I could have called on one of them to talk about what happened. If fact, I did have the opportunity to do this some weeks later. But at the time of the event, I wished to be part of a community where my medicine teacher was nearby. I have idealized the times when our peoples lived in smaller groups, in communities of people with elders to turn to, and a shaman or medicine woman for counsel, and where each of us had our role or place in the community. I think this desire to live in a close, small community is part of the remembrance of my indigenous soul of an earlier time when we did live together in harmony with the land. It is part of the pleasure of meeting in groups to go on the vision quest. It is a re-creation of how we used to live, and it always feels so right.

And so it is with my loneliness for connection with the animal world. I believe this is an expression of my indigenous soul as well. We grew up and evolved together with the animals. The way we live in now, in a planet shaped by 10,000 years of agriculture, forestry, and domination over the natural world, has made the animals afraid of us. Contact with animals is a gift I have been fortunate to experience many times on vision quests. And occasionally on runs through the woods, as I have described here. My indigenous soul knows that this encounter had meaning and significance. Maybe my indigenous soul even knows what the meaning is. However, my city self, ego self, Karen-in-the-world struggles to find her way to that deeper place that knows the truth about messages from wild creatures.

When I am out on a vision quest, or during those periods of time when I have lived in the wilderness, it is not so hard to know that deeper place. It is much more difficult in the city, in the midst of the daily concerns and pressures of earning a living and meeting responsibilities. It is hard to quiet and slow down enough to tune into the still place of my indigenous soul. But more than this everyday difficulty, when that owl hit me in the head, it reminded me of my father hitting me in the head when I was a child. It was a shock, and I dare say reactivated early trauma. The feeling of betrayal that nature would treat me this way was extremely upsetting and shook my whole view of the natural world as my friend, my safe place, the place that cared about me. It shook my faith in my indigenous soul. It has been hard to find my way back.

The wisdom of the owl

My medicine teacher, when I had the opportunity to talk with her in California a few weeks later, said that the owl put its medicine right in me by striking me on the head like that. This is what I wanted to hear. That there was something good about what had happened. That it meant I was special. This is the truth of the indigenous soul, surely? The message that owl has for me? That I am wise like the owl, have keen hearing, can pierce into the depths of people’s souls and true intentions? This is the kind of meaning I have sought from nature; to know myself and my strengths more accurately.

But you know, I don’t think this is the meaning of the owl encounters. The shock of being struck has kept me from running in that lush green place that was my favourite place to go. There is a learning here about respect. Respect for the wild animals and their ways. Respect for the vast force of nature. Though I am a small part of it, it is not all about me. There are large and mysterious processes at work of which I know little. Perhaps some humbleness is in order. A creature weighing only four pounds scared the indigenous soul right out of me! That should teach me something about respect. Clearly it’s not an either-or proposition of fear or oneness. But a call to a larger view that includes a healthy respect, a wiser understanding of the wild ones, and the oneness too.

At the beginning of this story I was wrapped up in who should do the cooking, and it seemed like a life-or-death question. The owls thought I was a threat to them, and their defensive maneuvers were in response to a perception of a life-or-death situation. I think we were both wrong! In the larger view I can take now, several months later, I think the life-or-death situation is a much bigger one, in which our animal friends are being forced off the planet through human expansion and exploitation. I feel the call to my indigenous soul to bring all of my resources to bear in doing what I can to protect them. I am being called to be much bigger than I ever thought I could. I am considering studying environmental law so that I will have the power and knowledge to do something more concrete to help. May I keep hearing the call of my indigenous soul, and discover the best way that I can help my animal kin. May we all. Continued here…

Photo © Rossano Russo, displayed on The Owl Pages. Used with permission.

The ultimate 15-minute yoga class

The most refreshing 15 minutes of the week!

For the past 8 months I offered a free 15-minute yoga class at lunch time. The participants were my colleagues at Coast Capital Savings. This was an adaptation of the 60-minute class I developed for the Society for Technical Communication, following the same principles of being accessible to people of every fitness level, with poses suitable for all of us while wearing office attire, and not requiring any special equipment.

Weather permitting, we did the class in the parking lot, and later on a grassy lawn across the street. When the weather was cool or wet, we did the class in a large meeting room, with lots of windows and light coming in on two sides. When indoors, I encouraged people to kick off their shoes. Outdoors, people often felt more comfortable keeping their shoes on. Sometimes the women did this class in their high heels! How’s that for adaptability!

Over this period of time I perfected a series of poses to loosen all the tension from the neck, shoulders, and upper back. It is mostly standing poses, though when indoors I like to include Cat.

Karen’s 15-minute yoga for the office class

Horse (Qigong) – loosens shoulder joints
Bear (Qigong) – loosens joints from ankles to shoulders, and softens neck
Carnival (Kundalini) – loosens upper back
Little wings (Kundalini) – pulverizes remaining tension in upper back
Mountain with side bends (Hatha) – uses breath to loosen ribs, open sides
Tree (Hatha) – brings balance and resilient strength
Cat – a final stretch to open space in the spine and chest

I guarantee that you will feel lighter, looser, rejuvenated, and refreshed after this class! Many times I was amazed at how the tension and pain in my shoulder (which I injured long ago with 15-hour days at the computer) vanished from doing this class. The participants also reported feeling benefits such as improved mood and reduced physical tension. But more than the physical results, the benefits of sharing this special time with my colleagues was the most uplifting aspect of this class. Namaste.

The White Mouse of the Klondike

Reporting back to you after completing the Klondike Road Relay last weekend, I have to say it was an amazing experience, an awesome race, and a great trip to the great white north.

My leg of the race (leg 4 of 10) began at the Canada Customs border between Alaska and BC. Just as Gordon finished leg 3 and handed off to me, a camper drove up blasting music. Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” started me off in the right spirit! As I passed the parking lot and entered the darkness, I saw a White Mouse cross the road in front of me. This was a very good omen.

In World War II, Nancy Wake was an allied spy known as the White Mouse. She performed all kinds of heroic feats, including riding a bicycle for 500 KM over a three day period to re-establish a coded wireless communication network which was essential for the allied cause. What an inspiring beginning to my run! If only I had such an important role to play in life.

But for this journey, the goal was to run the distance for my team, and not let them down. This was my first relay race since I was a teenager, and I found that the motivation of meeting the time I had set so that I didn’t let down my team mates was a strong motivation indeed. Plus, the support vehicle following a few dozen metres behind me made me feel like a superstar sports athlete. Any time I needed water, they’d pull up beside me and hand it to me, and ask if there was anything else I needed. What star treatment!

I had a great run, running really hard, pushing myself at about 95% capacity the whole time. There were no kilometre markers, so I didn’t know whether I was keeping the pace I had promised. But 8 KM into the leg I crossed a railroad track. My time was 46:45, well under 48:00 minutes or the 6 minute/KM pace I had predicted. Once I knew I was on track, I relaxed a little, and really got into the rhythm of the running.

There were a few moments of bliss on the run, in the dark, on a mysterious high mountain pass in the north of the world. I could see radiant light in the darkness, and knew that this was a place I could leave behind a burden I was carrying. I let it slide off my shoulders, up there on that mountain pass, and I swear I returned home without that burden.

So the race was terrific, and so was the entire trip to Whitehorse. I met an artist named Joyce Majiski, and purchased one of her amazing paintings of caribou, called Blue Bou. I met a Juno-nominated singer-songwriter, Anne Louise Genest (of the band Annie Lou), and found out we have friends and acquaintances in common. She told me about a book her sister, another Whitehorse resident, had just published (The Boreal Gourmet: Adventures in Northern Cooking, by Michele Genest). I bought two copies at Mac’s Fireweed Books. By the way, there was a field of spiky magenta fireweed beside the road where my leg ended!

The area around Whitehorse was in glorious fall colour. After a super-fun dance party Saturday night, some of my team went for an 8:00 AM run along the Yukon River Sunday morning. I swear I’ve never run that soon after a race before, but it felt amazing.

The final wonderful gift of the trip was learning about a writer’s residential retreat at Berton House in Dawson City, 500 KM further north than Whitehorse. I know the north is calling to me. I harken to the call. I spent the better part of today putting together my application for a 3-month stay at the Berton House. Wish me luck!

Klondike here I come!

The time has come! I leave for the airport in an hour, to fly up to the beautiful Whitehorse, YT, for the Klondike Road Relay! I told you before about my aggressive 10-week training schedule. As you might expect, I stuck to the schedule like glue for the first five weeks, culminating with a 2-hour run on August 8. Then I was at Monkey Valley for a week and the training fell apart. But I feel good to go, and well rested.

I’m so excited about seeing Whitehorse again. I was there 10 years ago, and also 20 years ago. I’ve got a hankering for the wild open spaces of the north, and would love to be graced with a vision of the aurora borealis. Plus, my friend Gordon put together a great team and lots of fun activities for us, including a helicopter tour and a visit to the local hotsprings! To be continued…

Here, for those of you who are interested, is an accounting of my endorphin rush experiment, from July 4 to August 8!

Endorphin rush experiment

July 4, 93: In a good mood before. Ran from 6:21 PM on. 3 choc bar day. At end of run felt like I can do anything, can definitely do the half, equanimous, euphoric. It’s okay if MV sells, or if it doesn’t sell. Maybe offer VF for free or lower price? It seems everything that might happen in life I can handle, and enjoy. Felt the green trees a lot, sensed a clean freshness in my chest. Quite a lot of energy (even though ran > 1 hr previous 2 days). When tired, used ChiRunning to feel a lightness (eyes ahead, back long, below waist loose, legs kicking up behind).

July 6, 68: At 21 minutes felt like I’d had a great day, even though I’d been irritated a lot of the day. At 27 minutes felt like I need to do this every day. Saw a wolf, I think. Had a half-dip in the river. Didn’t feel so cheerful when I had a bug in each eye and had probably swallowed more than I’d spit out. But ended feeling great, hill no problem, felt strong and alive. Thought some about work. Wondered about VF and if the guy will cancel & does that mean I should forget this type of work?

July 7, 60: Felt strong & fast. Worked 11 hours, then ran to bank to cash royalty cheque. Contract will be renewed for 6 more months! So felt very happy to begin with, and that lasted the whole run. A few moments of tiredness, but mostly fast & strong. I think running more these past few days increases the overall happiness. Plus sunny days last 2 days. And the blessings of Jupiter flowing as the new moon solar eclipse draws near. So endorphins there by about 12 minutes, and felt great. Still feel great!

July 8, 73: Weird day, didn’t flow exactly smoothly, but pretty good feeling/equanimity. Wanted to run longer (not turn back). No real high moments. Helped a cyclist who had run out of water. Gave water, reassurance, directions. He wanted to know he would be okay. Dip in the river again. I loved the green of the forest, and the cool. I felt glad to be there when someone needed help. Now I feel quiet.

July 10, 1:47: Felt strong in second half of the run. Loved the run, but no real highs on it. Amazing inquiry earlier in the day, and maybe feeling disjoint of regular life after that. Also eclipse looming. Had dip in the river. Loved the green of the trees and plants—felt I was absorbing the green like chlorophyll absorbs light, through my pores and eyes and heart. And running on the earth. It feels so healing, soothing, necessary. The green felt especially soothing. Pretty quiet now. Squirrel chatted with me by top tree.

July 11, 54:00: Somewhat tired and slow muscles this run, but loved being out in the forest, the green, the quiet. Asked for the second time for bugs to be protected from dying on me or flying into my eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. It worked again. Saw a swallow bug-catching along the river: look up swallow and squirrel. Reminded me of the medicine walk day when I saw the swallow. They are providing a fish egg-laying spot by there now; they’ve put branches across the path, gravel in the water, created a by-way with rocks. So no huge endorphin rush, but a definite quiet enjoyment and a feeling of irritation dropping away. After: pleasure, satisfaction at meeting my running goals for the week. Loving running 5 days a week again. It feels right.

July 13, 60:00: Ran at Jericho after private session with Carole. Felt very irritated. Way too many people. The sand wasn’t right so I had to run on the path. I felt tired and heavy a lot of the run. Endorphin rush made head tingle at 42 & 48 minutes. After I was glad I’d done it & kept my commitment to myself. Then wonderful inquiry.

July 14, 63:00: Very hard day, PMS probably, but teary, feeling no one cares about how I feel or what I want. My agent was attacking in a phone conversation. I cried a bit at work today. Also helped search for a missing boy and spoke to the man who works at the Lions building across the street (subsidized housing). So real mixed day, up and down, emotional. The run was so soothing, to be in the green forest and the cool. I cried on the run too. At about 43 min. felt the endorphin high—it felt so good to be running and I was sorry it was going to end soon. Stopped by a huge ancient tree on the path up, and greeted grandmother or grandfather, didn’t ask for anything specific but did ask for help and maybe holding. I could feel the giant presence around me. It was a pale green, the colour of the lichen. So overall I have to say it was a good run, healing. Afterward felt quite energized. Now 10PM and time for dinner.

July 15, 72:00: Had a great day, sorted out parking, on a high at work. Felt tons of energy while running, wanted to keep going. At 53 min. was sorry run was ending. At end still felt lots of energy, and altered state after as I walked it out. Only downside was mind very active much of the time. But felt strong & fast. Had a fun encounter with 2 cyclists. Saw a black vole run across the path!

July 17, 53:00: Great day, felt a lot of energy at first on the run (8:00 to the gate), loved soaking up the green again. Some time-watching, but at around 23 min. got into the groove. No problems with the distance.

July 18, 1:43:00: Felt quite tired in my legs for much of the run, didn’t eat enough good nutrition during the day. Also the hard training schedule catching up. But on the return half, gentle downhill, my energy picked up. No real euphoric moments while running. Did a ritual 12 minutes from the end, at my spot by the river. 10 minutes, greeted the 7 directions, buried the cheque from the faster who cancelled, (torn up) and planted the seed of guidance about how I am to help protect the earth. Thanked the 7 directions, and the run up the hill was quite easy. I was refreshed by the ritual and connecting with the directions. At the top of the hill in the parking lot, I heard a thrashing in the bushes. There was a reddish-brown body, and I thought it must be a dog, but then a beautiful little deer came out of the woods. She was a little timid, but not too afraid, and lifted her legs delicately as she walked across the parking lot. I spoke to her, thanking her, telling her I wouldn’t hurt her, honouring her preciousness. Deer can be a gentle beckoning to new adventure. It seemed this was the message from the spirits in response to my little ceremony. So a beautiful heartful ending to the run. I think it was this run that I thought about going to New York for my birthday.

July 20, 64:00: Great run, began feeling high at 17 minutes, and this continued throughout. Fell and got scrapes on hand, arm, right knee, but even this was not a downer. Loved the green. Went in the river. Explored a new spot. Felt all is right in the world. This continued after as well. Thought about asking Darch up for Saturday. Turned out he had emailed me earlier in the day about coming up to help!

July 23, 87:00: Ran with Darch at Monkey Valley. Lots of fun running together. Didn’t notice the euphoria but felt great to be out early in the morning running.

July 24, 42:00: Ran with the ChiRunning group. Angela, Darch, Lorinda, two others. It was great to see a group of people out running on these logging roads. Unfortunately I was much slower than them, so worried they would not know where to turn and didn’t like being last like that. Ashley twisted her ankle during the run. But loved the long up hill, the heat, having people to run with.

July 27, 62:00: Tired on run.

July 28, 80:00: Tired on run; began doing heel lifts, and the uphill cross-legged running.

July 29, 55:00: Pretty tired throughout run; did the heel lifts again; brought more lightness into the run.

July 30, 47:35: Very tired throughout run, very slow (morning run); I could feel the head tingling sometime after 40 minutes, but this endorphin release wasn’t strong enough to bring energy into my legs; there was a horrible vomit smell on part of the run, almost unbearable; ran to the bank and then along Wall, mood good in spite of tiredness; a little worry that it’s too much of a strain, I might injure myself, I won’t be able to keep up this training pace – basically, this week I was still exhausted from the ChiRunning & Yoga retreat, I still haven’t caught up on sleep, also hard to function well at work. This retreat took a major toll, though in the grand scheme of things it’s not a big deal.

July 31, 60:00: Wonderful run, spoke to mom on trail, green, energized, went 15 minutes past scheduled run. Very glad to be back on track and to have an energized run. Big challenge now is long run Sunday & 2 intense weeks of training.

4 Week Summary: Have completed first 4 weeks, doing minimum and usually more. First time ever that I’ve kept to the schedule so precisely. Very happy about this.

August 1, 1:52:00: The distance felt like no trouble at all. Found a trail at the end of the side road, and wanted to go farther to see where it went. Very slight twitch in left hip, tiredness at 1:20:00. But really the time was over before I knew it. No huge highs, but pleasant run, followed by dinner with Patricia at my house.

August 3, 67:30: Felt very tired on this run. Worried I won’t be able to complete the training, that I’ll be too tired, maybe get injured. So ran slow. Had a dip in the river. Very hard doing the uphill at the end.

August 4, 90:00: Great day, great run. Very energized internally, though my legs felt tired and slow at first. Wanted to stop thinking and just be, enjoy the beauty of the forest, and did quite a lot. On the uphill return two great grey owls visited with me for about 10 minutes. Silent flight, but noise hopping from a branch to a lower branch, and once or twice noise opening their wings. One time I looked at one and the other one flew away without me hearing a thing. But they seemed interested in me, flew to nearer branches, both looked at me. They also both flew at each other and dislocated the roosting one from a branch. It was such a wonderful gift!

Aug. 5, 67:00: My legs felt very tired during the run. This disappeared at about the half-way point. Dip in the river on the way back. I had a moment on the return of being without ego and feeling afraid, even as I felt excited to see how reality might appear without the ego veils. So it was scary but exhilarating, I wanted to continue this. On the trail up I had another encounter with the two owls. One hit me on the head, very forcefully. It hurt a lot and made me cry, especially because I had been honouring the owls, thanking them for their presence. It felt like a betrayal, and shook my view of reality, esp. of nature being kind and of me having a special relationship with the earth. I wrote about it in my blog. Read Medicine Card and Animal Speak. Deception being revealed? Angela thought new beginnings.

Aug. 7, cycled 55:00: First running equivalent. Went mountain biking with Darch. It’s very hard and scary!

Aug. 8, 2:01:00: Ran with Darch all around Merritt and along the two rivers. Pace a bit fast, beautiful to see new scenery. Fun to run with a friend. It sure helped to keep going the whole distance. Didn’t notice any marked endorphin rush. But after run felt great.

Conclusion about endorphin highs: They are not noticeable during every run, but are often there. They can start as early as 17 minutes, but usually don’t hit until about 40+ minutes. This could be because I have built up a certain level of fitness, so for newer runners, where the effort is strong, the endorphins might kick in sooner. For me I think it has always been that they kick in after a longer amount of activity. Quality of the day and my mood before the run sometimes affects the mood of the run too, but often the run turns around a cranky mood. Anyway, I’m glad I do it, whether its a good run or a bad run! Also noticeable in this experiment is how enriching running in nature is for me. Note this well, couch dwellers!

Photos by Joe Charron. Used with permission.

Part 2: Aggressive owl clouts runner on the head

Well, after my magical experience on Wednesday night, I was quite looking forward to my run Thursday night, hoping to see the great grey owls again. On the way down the trail, I didn’t see them, but I thought it was still too early. It wasn’t quite dusk yet. On the way back, sure enough, as I neared the same spot where I had seen the owls Wednesday night, suddenly an owl flew over my head, landing on a branch nearby.

I stopped, and bowed to the owl, thanking it for coming to visit me again. I opened my awareness to pure consciousness, wanting to sense the field of the owl and listen for anything it might be wanting to tell me. After a few moments, I heard a sound behind me. I turned to look, and the second owl was there, on a branch about the height of my head, only about six feet away. What a gift, to have the owls trust me and come so close!

When I turned back to look at the first owl, it was gone, but suddenly it swooped over my head again. I remembered stories about great grey owls that I’ve heard from friends recently, and recalled that they can be aggressive, even knocking peoples’ hats off their head. It occurred to me that maybe the owl was telling me to hit the road, that I was too close to the nest or something. I said this to the owls, that I would continue on my way, and turned to continue running up the path. Next thing I knew, one of the owls had struck me very forcefully on the top of my head. Ouch! What a shock! It was a forceful blow, quite amazing considering these owls only weigh about four pounds.

Okay, okay, I get the message, I’m leaving! I thought. I continued to run up the path, and one of the owls swooped very close to my head again, though it didn’t strike me this time. It continued swooping in loops alongside me a few more times, until I came to the same bend in the road as the previous night. There the two owls perched, and watched as I left their territory. I paused to say goodbye, voicing the fact that I didn’t much like being struck that way, but still appreciated their presence.

As I continued up the next bit of trail, the full impact of what had happened sunk in. I began to cry as I ran. My head hurt, but what hurt more was my heart. I had been so open to the presence of the birds, feeling like it was a gift. I thought I was special, and that the encounter was proof that I have some kind of special connection with nature. I have longed for closeness with wild creatures, and the night before it had seemed this was what was happening. And also it had seemed a clear answer to a question I was holding. In previous times, when people were closer to the land, the land and her creatures were ensouled with meaning, and such encounters had significance. I had sought this significance myself, but in feeling physically hurt, it seemed all of this was wiped away. I was just a fool on a run, blundering through an owl’s territory, unwelcome. All of this wounded my pride, my identity, shook up my view of reality.

Suddenly I had more sympathy for people who feel frightened of nature. Perhaps this is what was most upsetting about the encounter (and also the gift, to understand how others feel). I have always felt nature is a friendly place, or at worst neutral. But it’s a place I have felt safe, and have trusted. This encounter shook that trust. I don’t know yet the full impact on me. To be continued…

Part 1: I heard the owl call the chefs’ names

Something quite wonderful happened on my run in the Seymour Forest on Wednesday night that I must tell you about. I did a 90-minute run along the Seymour River, where I always finish by coming up a steep 1 KM trail called the Homestead Trail. There is a bend in the trail near the top, right before the steepest section, with a creek bed that is usually dry but very green and filled with ferns. The trees are very old here, some of them huge, and the clear forest floor is red from the accumulation of dry pine needles. It is a beautiful spot on the run. As I was coming up to this spot I was thinking about the idea of Joe and Wahl doing the cooking at the ChiRunning and Yoga Retreat next year, turning it over in my mind.

Suddenly, as I neared the bend, a great grey owl flew over my head! It wasn’t totally silent, otherwise I wouldn’t have heard it… It came to rest on a branch overhead, and I stopped to say hello and thank it for its presence. It was dusk, so I couldn’t see details clearly, but the owl seemed to be grey, rounded head (no visible ear tufts like the great horned owl), with lighter feathers at the bottom of the tail. The owl looked at me for a long time, and after a while it made a sound like FFFFFsh. and then I heard another sound behind me. I looked, but couldn’t see what had made the sound. Then I realized there was a second great grey owl behind me!

I hung out with them both for about 10 minutes. They flew around a bit, coming closer to me to get a better look! Silent, puffy flight, but noise hopping from a branch to a lower branch, and once or twice noise opening their wings. One time I looked at one and the other one flew away without me hearing a thing. But they seemed interested in me, flew to nearer branches, both looked at me. They also both flew at each other and dislocated the roosting one from a branch. It was such a wonderful gift!

For reasons which I can’t reveal here, it was obvious that nature was providing a very clear answer to the question about the chefs. Joe and Wahl absolutely must come and do the cooking next time! Grey owl said so! 🙂 And I was thrilled both to have this magical encounter, and to have what I thought was a very clear answer to a question, for a change! To be continued…

Is yoga and ChiRunning the answer?

Last weekend, Angela James and I, along with two musicians and eight participants, had a fantastic time at the ChiRunning and yoga retreat at Monkey Valley. It was the most beautiful time of year, with flowers of dozens of varieties in bloom, the grass waist-high, and visiting birds of many colours flitting through the willows by the creek. We had delicious meals, moments of quiet contemplation during the morning meditations, exciting discoveries about ChiRunning, relaxation and enjoyment during the yoga, and incredible fun around the campfire with the sing-along, guitar music, cello numbers, and smores! We went for a swim in Missezula Lake, and some of us ran back to Monkey Valley from there. It felt like a real blessing to me to see the posse of runners up ahead, running along the logging road. As if my heart’s desire had been answered by sharing this magical place with other runners.

Last entry, I was musing about how I am being called to serve my people. Last summer (or maybe the summer before) my friend John Harper had asked me the astonishing question “What if the universe doesn’t want you to do anything?” The heart of this question, it seems to me, is considering the possibility that I don’t have to crawl a hundred miles on hands and knees, but can just let the soft animal of my body love what it loves (to paraphrase Mary Oliver). That is, maybe there is nothing in particular I need to do. Just be. Maybe I don’t need to stop the oil eruption, or change the way Canadians feel about banking, forever (my current client’s dream), or lead people on intensive vision quests in the wilderness. Maybe I can just be an ordinary person, and see what unfolds.

The yoga and ChiRunning retreat unfolded with absolute ease from the moment I took Angela’s workshop in January. Certainly there was some hard work involved along the way, especially in cooking for 12 people, but there was a flow and element of surprise and delight throughout, such as when my friend Darch offered to come a day early and help out. It seems to me that this type of flow and ease is what I long for, and what seems like true guidance about direction. I continue to hold the question as my summer unfolds, with another trip to Monkey Valley coming up and then the annual Diamond Approach summer retreat at Asilomar later in August. Maybe my desire to serve in some big, special way is just an ego trip, and all I need to be is an ordinary person, special just because I am, just like you are special just because you are.

Top photo: Joe Charron. Middle and bottom photos: Lorinda Wei.

Musings on oil and vision quests

I have been feeling shocked, horrified, and deeply saddened by the environmental damage caused by the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. I am sure that millions of people feel the same way. We evolved as a species along with the other species on this earth, and are deeply affected by the massive devastation the oil spill is causing to the ocean, seashore, and many creatures living there.

To quote from an article about ecological trauma on the Greenpeace website, “Regardless of prevailing conceits, we retain learned patterns from 50 million years of primate evolution, 5 million years of hominid development, and 500,000 years of fire-bearing, tool-making hunter-gatherer culture. During this long genesis, humanity grew within the comfort and constraints of an intact ecosystem that supplied sustenance, vital lessons, wonder, and a home. Watching that home fall under the blade of industrialism shocks our system, whether we know it or not…

“In spite of our civilised ways, human psychology remains linked to our primal origins. As a result, we suffer the trauma of witnessing ecological abuse, watching wilderness obliterated, other creatures eradicated, and the Earth diminished.”

In 2004, I became inspired to study ecopsychology at Naropa University because of my desire to do something positive with my life to help preserve the animals and wild places that remain. I was also motivated by my feelings of helplessness and hatred towards the human race for what we are doing to the planet. Fortunately for me, and for the many other students at Naropa, the education there is built on a contemplative foundation. Through meditation and other practices, I learned to bring presence and a deeper awareness to my studies and my life. Experiences of the deeper truth of reality helped me to see the beauty and inherent goodness of life. Without this awareness I think it would have been intolerable to continue living in the world the way it is today. It is a miracle to me that my feelings of helplessness and hatred were transformed into feelings of hope, a deep love for the inner journey, and a commitment to doing what I can for the earth in a way that I can offer lightly and with joy.

How is this possible? Partly it is from the experiences of the deeper truth of reality, which helps give me a bigger perspective with which to hold traumatic events such as the oil spill (perhaps better described as an endless eruption of oil). A commitment to this deeper truth helps me to make my inner journey the first priority. I believe that our first task is to mature as human beings into the majestic creatures of being that we are born to be. Or at least do our best in this task! The second goal for me is to do what I can to protect and care for the earth and her creatures in the way that best uses my abilities, energy, and love. To me this means choosing action that I can take from a place of joy, rather than despair.

When I graduated from Naropa, I chose the work of being a vision quest guide as the way I had learned that brought me the strongest sense of joy, excitement, and love for my people. I thought that by guiding others to undertake a vision quest, I would be serving through helping them mature as humans and connect with their love of the earth. In this way, however the participants might choose to serve their people after the quest, they would be nourished by their connection with the earth, and perhaps guided by their love for the earth at times when it is necessary to choose a course of action.

I threw myself wholeheartedly into the path of the vision quest, seeking training with the School of Lost Borders and offering annual programs at BC Wilderness Visions. However, the results have been very modest! I have guided one faster per year, in addition to apprenticing on group fasts. This summer no fasters have decided to undertake this journey at Monkey Valley. It makes me wonder if not this, then what? Where am I being called to serve? I hold this as an open question, and am abiding in the not-knowing place of the threshold phase of the vision quest ceremony. Rather than rushing to fill the void with something new, I await deeper guidance and certainty.

It is so complex to be a human being living in North America at this time in history. We are dependent upon oil, like it or not. We all need to earn a living, and must spend a significant portion of our waking hours doing so. We can decide not to consume needlessly, and we can choose options that seem to cause the least harm, such as growing some of our own food or buying locally grown, organic produce (though many people cannot afford even this most basic choice for health). One of the things I needed to make peace with at Monkey Valley was that even though I was using solar power, I still needed to use my gas-powered car to get there. I continue to drive, too often and too fast, as long as I own that land and travel there, but also in my daily commutes around the city of Vancouver. I spend many hours a week engaged in earning a living as a technical writer, which is an effective way to pay the bills but does not help serve my planet or my people in a way that feels meaningful to me.

I feel my heart’s longing to do something worthwhile with this life. To serve my people and my planet in the best way I can, in the way I am meant to do. I guess today’s entry is my way of asking for guidance, and stating my intention. There is an excitement in the not knowing, and the longing, as I abide in this place. In the past I have shied away from direct environmental action, aside from financial contributions and participating in protests and petitions. I hold the possibility that I will be called to move into this arena more specifically. At dinner time I often thank our dear earth mother for the blessings from her body, and pray that the nourishment may help me do her work. May it be so.