Illuminated Relationships – finding you in every thing

This post is #2 in the series, ‘How I came to do what I do’.

If you would like to read from the beginning:  Post #1 and the chinchilla.

Today, I set out to discover new lands with Starr. What I mean by new lands is, territory yet uncovered by us, together, on foot. This is one of my favorite things to do – to do with Starr.

It was a perfect afternoon to set out on a trek – windy, rain mixed with snow pelting my jacket, her coat. I knew there would not be a lot of people out and about – maybe there would even be NO people. My preference.

I packed up all  necessities: small notebook, pens, wallet, chap stick, hanker chief and camera. Starr, with fleece jacket and me with hat, fleece and rain jacket headed out in my car. On route, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a pair of snowy white swans gliding across still water diving for food. My breath caught and I felt as if I had seen something regal.

I made a mental note to check there in the future with camera ready.

We drove out to the beach parking lot and after shutting off the car, paused. I took a few deep breaths as if I knew what I was going to find would be adventure at its best – and a slight feeling of wonder – wonder of whether or not I was ready.

Together we made our way out to the sand – how great sand feels to my feet – even through my heavy hiking boots. Sensational even.

I took another deep breath and scanned the beach. There were small forms walking off to the right quite a distance away. We went left.

The only person out there beside me: a clam digger – pitch fork in hand – bag in the other.

I let Starr loose and she was off to sniff her part of the journey. Me, I was off to photograph mine.

I traversed my way over a span of rocky area and then across the sand down to the water’s edge. Person clamming still there – making a serene picture dressed in black against the light gray-white sky and the blue-gray water.

I snapped pictures of water meeting shore, of water meeting sky, of the ebb and flow.

I captured the serenity and solitude of the clammer.

Starr caught my attention and I headed up away from the water’s edge and to the dunes where she looked like she may be eating something I would rather she didn’t. I came upon a bird’s wing – the entire wing including the shoulder bone. After shooing Starr onward, I stepped over the wing continuing on.

Less than 5 steps away, I was brought fully back into the present and to what lay below me as soon as my focus became clear.

It was if I was still looking through the camera lens but I wasn’t.

In moments such as this I can actually feel my brain processing what I am looking at. These are the slow motion moments that many of us describe when we come upon something totally unexpected or shocking to the system. Everything slows.

My vision went wide and then focused in again on the object before me.

A dead seal.

I stepped wide and around. I stopped breathing.

In the seconds that followed, I wanted to step away quickly and move on. I didn’t want to register what I was looking at.

I walked away and then realized I could go back if I wanted to. I could look. I could even take a photograph.

My very first thought once I neared the body for the second time was what I was witnessing was sad. The very next thought was, “Who says?”

I knew there was a reason I was to meet up with this seal in this way.

I didn’t need my own judgment to get in the way of the message.

I took two photographs of the seal (which I won’t share because I feel I wouldn’t be leaving you a choice).

Then I walked on.

And thought about the experience of finding the seal.

Animals taught me to observe starting very early in my life.

They taught me to quietly observe. I learned quickly as a young person, that if you wanted the opportunity to observe any wild animal you had to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. Soon afterward, I realized that by just simply observing and allowing the events in front of you to play out you could be witness to profound things.

Relationships – between animals, between nature and animals, between myself and animals.

Weather changes and what the birds do when there is an approaching storm or while it is raining heavily. I would be safely covered by the ancient, thick pines that lined the river near my house. Sitting very still. Watching. Observing.

Fish in the river. Deer following their paths. Cows in the nearby fields. Rabbits searching for food. Or simply the way the grasses sway and bend in the breeze. I would watch for hours.

Life and all of its messages.

As an adult, I am a keen observer. I still love to sit very still in nature and watch. Just being.

Where I apply this lesson of observation is still in relationship it is just honed specifically to how I first relate to myself and then all of life that surrounds me.

I observed my own fear of looking directly at the dead seal and chose to give myself a second chance to really see – as much as I was comfortable with.

I observed my judgment that it was a sad circumstance that the seal had died. I questioned the judgment. I was gentle with myself.

Later, as I continued to walk the beach, I asked myself what life and nature may be wanting to show me in this experience.

Just choosing to observe – to step back and witness what is happening can teach you things about yourself that you did not know.

If we could choose to simply observe our interactions with our significant others when there is an emotional conversation we would come away from the interaction with information. Vital information.

If we could choose to remind ourselves not to judge the interaction or emotions from either ourselves or our partner we would no longer stand in our own way.

Just observe.

We would stop repeating patterns that are not useful. That do not bring us closer to our partner.

Judgment creates a block. Judgment keeps us from being able to observe.

Just as I questioned myself as to whether or not it really was a sad circumstance behind this seal’s death, what if we asked ourselves:

What if what my partner or child is trying to convey is an attempt at helpfulness?

What if there is just simply a need that is not being met and this is their way of asking for what they need?

What if he/she is really not trying to discount my feelings? What if they really aren’t judging me?

What if my own judgment is standing in the way of being able to see this? To observe this?

What if the relationship that really needs observing is the one I am having with myself?

What if…?

Tags: animals, beach, bird, breathe, camera, child, choice, emotions, feelings, gentle with yourself, judgment, loved one, nature, observe, partner, relationship, seal, step back, walk