By this morning it was already late in the workweek and so I was of course late to start the day. I walked with the pups along one of our regular routes, one of the deep ruts we’ve cut in our corner of East Hollywood. Just past the library I had to steer them around a dead kitten lying in the parkway. They licked their greedy little chops and tugged at their leash, but the will of this pack leader prevailed. No scavenging. No, thank you.
At the end of my Very Long Day, I threw myself into the car and started for home through Griffith Park, the slow steady scenic route I usually take to avoid the unpredictable snarls of the I-5 freeway. For a minute I scolded myself for not bucking the rut and taking the fast road home to the dogs – it was almost 9:00 and so rush hour was probably over. Then suddenly my headlights revealed a coyote in all its splendor, casually standing watch in the picnic grass beside the road! I slowed to savor the encounter as much as I could from within my giant steel cage. I felt a little more human… and a little more animal.
You lucky dog!
I experienced a similar moment when I lived in Germany. As I walked through a lovely wooded reserve in Hessen, I was struck by the demure presence of a little Reh (deer), curled up on the ground a mere eight feet away from my path. I almost missed the sight but just caught it in my peripheral vision (another good reason to keep your entire visual field alert – insert Thought Distillery link here). We watched each other through an avenue in the tall winter grass until I decided to leave her in nature’s peace and safety. When my walk began, my body was a vessel, carrying me through the woods. After my close encounter, my mind and physical being were melded as I felt the eyes of nature penetrating me from all sides of the spectrum of sensual awareness. It was both comforting and intimidating, imagining the companionship of both the friends and foes of man in a truly natural setting. Or maybe it was just the thrill of adrenaline pumping through my veins. Primal.
Wouldn’t mind knowing if any of you other nature advocate nuts have delved into ecopsychology, a term used this month by the Procott Corner of our Three Rivers Co-op newsletter, Currents. Apparently, this "new discipline combines ecology and psychology" seeing "our alienation from our feelings as being emblematic of our alienation from nature, a by-product of urban life." Maybe it will turn out to be just a bunch of new age craziness (insert Urban Locust anti-hippie comment here). I personally feel more alive when I’m aware that we are not the only worthy creatures walking the earth.
Lady Claudia,
This is the first I’ve heard the term "ecopsychology", but I would say its subject area is quite familiar regardless of any anti-hippie arrows that may be flung my way. Human society has removed itself so very far from the nature that makes life even possible. With such distance from our true life source, is it any wonder why so many people carry around a feeling of emptiness? Like you I’ve experienced moments where I seemed to get a glimpse or taste of what living is supposed to feel like. Those moments when you feel not as an individual but actually part of the large and interconnecting living world. Those moments are priceless – and unfortunately tend to be few and far between.
I was very fortunate to attend a weeklong camp last fall where the focus was to discover and develop a closer connection to the natural world. The lessons were simple yet profound. I discovered an amazing new world that I had simply passed by before without even knowing. There is a power in nature that cannot be measured or explained – but it is very obvious when one experiences it. I would truly love to explore this realm more with others, but unfortunately the vast majority have armed their closed minds with anti-whacko arrows as well.
Do visit the west coast sometime. You, Katie and myself should experience a walk through the wilderness!