Witnessing Nature
animistic education throughout the years
When the body protests these days, I acquiesce. Our hike ended up being one of these moments that instead allowed for a day of observation.
This is a recording from the slopes of the Alps reflecting on the moments of observational learning that were gifted throughout this life.
I get frustrated with humans for not understanding that we are all part and parcel with Nature Herself, but how many of us were gifted learning moments like this? not many, I’d wager.
Or, maybe you’ve had more opportunities than you’ve been aware of! Maybe the seeds are planted in there somewhere just waiting for the fire inside to burn through and ignite germination.
Pictures from a sit spot in the Swiss Alps
Access the Voice Note Here:
This article was originally published on Substack. You can read the original here.
Audio Transcription:
Witnessing Nature
So I'm out here on this hike and I got about halfway through with my family but my knees are like not great these days and I don't have hiking poles in Switzerland. So I decided to park it up on the hill while the kiddo and the old man take a hike down to the edge of this alpine lake in the Alps. With crystal clear water. It's absolutely gorgeous.
And as we were hiking down I noticed on one of the rocks there was a caterpillar that was half smushed and the front of its body was trying desperately to survive. And I had to contemplate for a moment do I just smush it and put it out of its misery. And I couldn't bring myself to do that.
But one of the things that welled up inside of me was desperate rage against humanity that people are so unobservant. You know, even here walking, hiking through the meadows and the Alps, like we're just big bumbling doofuses that don't pay attention to a whole lot. I'm such a misanthrope these days.
But also, sitting out here on the mountainside has my heart bursting with love and opening and expansion. And I'm reminded of so many times in my life when I've had this opportunity and, frankly, this training. And it's training that not every human gets.
I can remember back in sixth grade, I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and we had public education that was well-funded at that point. That was, what, the 80s when I was in sixth grade. And we had a week of outdoor school that we got to attend. And one of the most formative experiences of my lifetime was going out to outdoor school.
And this is one of the days our guide took us out on this trail walk. And the intention of it was that we were going to sit. We're going to find a sit spot out in nature and just observe. Just watch. And he wanted us to make sure that we were far enough apart from each other that we couldn't really see each other or talk to each other and get distracted.
And then we were going to just sit there for like, I don't know, probably just 15 minutes, honestly. But you know, when you're a kid, it feels like forever. And I had brought with me a camouflage parka because back then, climate change hadn't quite taken hold and the Pacific Northwest was... Always drizzly and lush and green.
So he told us just to watch. Look at all of the things. Look at all the different types of flora. You know, we look out and we see the grass, but it's not just grass. There's not just one type of green. You know, there's multiple types of plant life and then also to observe the bugs, the fauna, the creepy crawlies, the winged ones, the four-legged ones.
Who comes across our path? Banana slugs and snails and beetles and, you know, even inside of those categories there's so many different forms of critters. The cloud people floating by and maybe blessing us with their rain. The winds as they kick up. What do we see?
And I remember as he went around, he said, Okay, it's time. And I just sat there still as a stone underneath my tree. And I wasn't exactly hidden. I was pretty much sitting out in the open. But he passed by several times without seeing me, and I didn't bother to hide my face either, but it was like I was sitting in one of those elven cloaks from The Lord of the Rings. I just was so pleased with myself that I could hide in plain sight like that.
But that was really an experience that lived with me, has lived with me forever now.
And then fast forward to just about two years after my daughter was born and I got to go out on my first humblecha and cry for a vision in Wyoming with Chief Golden Light Eagle and sit at the base of the tree at Devil's Tower and observe all of nature.
Something interesting happened out there. It was about the third day in. And throughout the day, there were two sets of young men who came upon my sit spot.
The first one was a set of two native men. And as soon as they saw that I was sitting out there, they were still pretty far down the hills. They diverted course and they didn't even have to talk to each other. It was just, they just knew. They knew what I was doing. They knew somehow without speaking to change course. So they did. They went out by the water instead.
And then a few hours later, there were a couple of white guys decided to come up the hill. They didn't see me until they nearly were stumbling upon me, you know, and they were loud and I could hear that they were looking for a place to smoke grass.
I felt the most intense fear that I had not felt with that first couple of men. Now, the same damage could have been done by either set of men, you know. And yet... Part of what I noticed was the lack of observation, the lack of knowing what was going on, and also the lack of recognition to change course. They just walked practically right over me. Isn't that interesting?
But, you know, to the point of observation, and I think the anger that wells up inside of me. One of those sets of men had likely been trained in one form or another to pay attention to their surroundings. You know, you grow up in an animistic society, even if it's just remnants, and you're watching nature. You are relating with nature differently. You're paying attention to what's going on around you. And you grow up in a society that doesn't value, you know, an animistic perspective. And the things that one values are quite different. It would seem.
So here I am today. Getting pissed off about somebody paying so little attention in their big honking hiking boots that they would smush a poor caterpillar instead of stepping wider to avoid it, to avoid that life.
And also at the same time, here I am sitting on the mountainside having the wonderful, wonderful privilege of just being able to observe. Observe the mountain goats. Get to watch my critters as they hike down the mountain and back up again. I'm watching them dip their toes in that crystal clear lake.
I'm looking at all the alpine flora that is so beautiful and delicate and yet tough as nails to be able to grow up here. The bluebells, the umpteen different grasses bobbing their little heads in the breeze.
I get to watch my friends, the cloud people, as they drift on by with their cotton puff clouds heralding the storm that will roll in tonight. And accompany us on our way as we make our way down the mountain to the airport.
I'm watching the lichen as it slowly forms its clan over years and decades. And the stone people as they break off from their mother and become their own beings. I'm just so, so impressed, so grateful.
I get to speak with the mountain bees and notice the difference in the bumbles and the solitary bees that are so different from the honey bees that we raise for their sweet vomit. You're welcome.
The unbearable lightness of being, huh? None of this is mere stage dressing. For our experience, we are part and parcel with this world. We are not the only life that matters on this very, very special, watery, emerald sphere of ours.
We all get to live with each other. We all get to I don't know, have this beautiful interplay with each other and it's just so wonderful.
So I guess I'm curious, what's it like for you? Do you go out on hikes? Do you sit in nature? Were you ever trained to observe the life around you? Does it break your heart when you witness it? Leave me a note. I'm so curious.