Tom and I were outdoor and nature lovers and for us life was always a daring adventure. In our mountain climbing experiences, Tom and I had learned that there are many lessons nature has to teach us. Over the years we found that if you remain awake, are willing to take a little risk, watch and listen to what is around you, amazing things will unfold right before your eyes.
What a vacation!
This particular trip was a canoe trip in the Quetico wilderness of Canada, just north of Ely, Minnesota. At that time our 3 boys were ages 13, 11, and 8. Tom was the trip organizer and being the paramount adventurer, decided that 31 portages were just a perfect number for our young family.
(Portaging is done to get from 1 body of water to the other. So, it involves carrying the canoes, food, tents, and all clothes and equipment from one to the other. Sometimes it's a short distance and you can see your destination. Sometimes it requires up to 2 miles of trekking through woods, over logs, and through mud. Two miles becomes 6 if you have to go back for a second load).
Off we went, and things were going smoothly. The paddling was easy, and we quickly devised a portage strategy and system. Tom, being the macho guy, would take a canoe on his head all by himself. The 2 oldest boys, in an effort to appear tough and studly, would take the other. I would take a heavy pack and Chris, my youngest, would too. The trail was often mosquito ridden and swampy. With their heads in the canoe, you would hear the two boys slapping their legs….stumbling over logs …often landing in a puddle of muck. What a shock to hear the expletives that came out of the mouths of my 'innocent babies'. Meanwhile, Chris and I followed behind struggling with heavy packs. Then we went back to pick up a second load. The 2 boys and dad would reluctantly pick up the tent and food packs. I would masterfully beat out Chris for the prize load…the paddles.
Nature Speaks to Us
One very tough day we had several very long portages and ended up at our camp site on a secluded island. By the time we got there, we were all tired and hating each other. The boys were mad at Tom for arranging such a hard trip, and mad at me for going along with it. The boys were hating each other for just being alive. No one was talking. And nobody would budge … EXCEPT Tom, who quickly made a fire and started dinner. Perhaps because of the dead silence, we heard the sound of sticks falling on to the rocks around us and noticed little white things floating through the air. We looked up and saw a huge mother eagle standing way up in her nest throwing debris out to the ground below. In the nest fidgeting, were 2 eaglets. On the beach below, pacing, was the Dad looking up and seemingly waiting for something.
We found out later what she was doing on the nest. She was getting rid of all the cushy, comfy parts of the nest by picking them out and throwing it all onto the ground below. Occasionally she would take hold of the nest with her talons and shake it furiously. Eventually all that was left of the nest were the intertwined pointy ouchy sticks.
Pretty soon the kids 'got the point' and moved to the edge. It was just too painful to sit there. She pushed them around and then, in one fell swoop, she picked up the eaglet closest to her and in a flurry of wing thrashing, threw it out of the nest. In fear the eaglet furiously flapped its wings… getting nowhere fast. Suddenly from below the dad appeared and flew beneath the eaglet as if to support it as it crashed into, and landed on a nearby branch. Then they both stood there, as if to get up the guts to make another go of it. In a flurry of wings it was off again. Again, the father flew with it until it landed on a branch. It made a few more tries getting better every time until, quite by accident, it faced into the wind. MIRACULOUSLY it opened it's wings and effortlessly glided out.
And We Listen
You see, the eaglet discovered that if he took the leap and relaxed, he would get what he needed. All along he had the instincts he needed; instincts that told him that the thermal wind currents would surely hold him up. He had to take the risk, give up control, listen to his encouragers …. and follow the beating of his own heart.
Five years ago when my husband and wilderness soul mate, Tom, suddenly passed away, I found out what it was like to be that eaglet sitting on the prickly sticks. I was pushed off the nest, not be a mother eagle, but by what fate had dealt me. I had no choice but to jump off the edge in to space by myself to a brand new life. I, like the eaglet, was lucky because gently supporting me from below was not 1 eagle dad, but my 3 eaglet sons.
That day in the wilderness nature gave us another lesson. We aren't all that different from eagles. We are here to support each other and yet are lifted up by some unseen force. Funny, but our small complaints didn't seem that important any more.
ACTION OF THE MONTH
Think about your nest…. a situation you might be in, a job, or a relationship. Are there some ouchy pointy sticks telling you it's time to take a leap because things just aren't right or you need to grow a little?
Get ready to take the leap
Line up your supporters
Take off, try your best and start flapping
Have faith
Listen to the beating of your own heart
And SOAR!
