Perspective - Breathing Into Chaos

This morning I decided to go for a—well, not a hike. More of a ramble through the prairie grasses, really, but it was in a small wildlife refuge not far away. My goal for this early morning ramble was twofold: to get ideas for writing and to slow and soften my energy to the point that nature forgot that I am “human”. 

I accomplished both goals. My morning meditative walk generated several blog posts, a few new ideas for the formulation phase of book four, and I was able to capture a couple really cool pictures of wildlife, who decided that I wasn’t something to warn against or run away from. Birds landed on grasses within a foot of me and a rabbit who ran away as I walked toward her (him?), came out to say hi when I crouched down to take a picture. She (he?) was comfortable coming almost within touching distance. 

This behavior made me realize something, though—humans spend most of their time walking through life from a certain perspective. Change that perspective and we receive—and project—a totally different image. When I walked by, I was “human”—with all of the assumptions that come with the word. When I crouched down and was still, the animals in the refuge no longer perceived me the same way, feeling comfortable coming closer to me, no longer perceiving me as a “threat” to be avoided. 

Now we are talking about animals in a wildlife refuge, where animals are not heavily predated, there are lots of humans ambling and dogs are not allowed, so they are probably not nearly as “wild” as those who live away from the city environment, but even given that, it was a powerful experience this morning to slow down, observe, and listen. The energy of the refuge was not peaceful—the birds were in high dudgeon over a squirrel that was menacing their nests and they were making their displeasure quite obvious. Another unseen animal rustled the bushes and grasses, foraging for food, the little pond was ruffled by fishes feeding at the surface with little splashes, the frogs were joining in the cacophony by making some of the strangest noises I’ve ever heard—the frog I heard sounded like a creaky door—but I breathed through the chaos and let myself sink into the noise, feeling the stillness underneath the craze.  

The result was nature welcoming me. I spent a good portion of my leisurely amble on my haunches this morning, crouching down to see the world from a different angle, to remind myself that sometimes, it is just a change in perspective that’s required. To do that, all that is necessary is to breathe through the chaos. As I breathed, what I projected into the world changed. Nature not only reacted differently to me, I opened up a different perspective and new creative angles for my other endeavors. I walked out of that wildlife refuge a little bit different than I walked in—hmmm. I wonder where breathing through chaos will take me next?