Seeing with Chickadee - from 11/3/02

I walked today. Going up into the mountain wilderness is something I have adored doing for a long time now. But I recently came upon the Celtic idea of hillwalking. From the description of the practice, I realized that I have been doing it all along, but I had been unaware of the power that such a focus can bring forth. So today I walked in the same old way, yet added a new awareness.

The trail head of the Rio Grande de Ranchos Trail is less than a five minute drive from the house, south along NM State Highway 518. The maintained part of the trail is short; maybe a quarter mile, where it joins a forest service road. I crossed that road and headed up toward the ridge. I stopped after a brief while to "loosen the soul", as Frank MacEowen calls it. To the Celts, the soul surrounds the body; and it contracts from the toxins and stresses of daily life. Closed eyes and a few deep breaths expands it to open to the mirroring qualities of nature. In doing this I found that I had no expectations other than encountering chickadees on the ridge.

The climb was strenuous and heart-pounding. But I found a difference this time; perhaps due to my new focus. I did not have the urge to rest. Although there is no trail on those slopes, the trail seemed to arise from the earth, much in the same way that Junah saw the path of his golf light up before him when he "found the field" (The Legend of Bagger Vance). I followed that trail, with all of its twists and switchbacks. But soon I stopped when I found myself surrounded by chickadees.

None came near, but I was delighted to see them and hear them. As soon as I resumed climbing I came upon prints in the moist soil ~ cougars. Walking on, I found that the cougar tracks were all along, although I was not literally "tracking" the cat.

Reaching the crest of the ridge I was winded and my heart was racing. The mucky smell of cigarette smoke in my throat and sinuses had gone to a metallic taste. The air was sweet and moist, as these ridges have been shrouded in fog for most of the last three days. I climbed a ways more until I found a gathering of stones to sit on. Here was a view of Taos Mountain to the north, and of the dramatic peaks in the Pecos Wilderness far to the south. I sat in this place for quite some time. The sky was a hazy gray from high, thick clouds. The clouds buffered the sun enough to view it directly. But the chill was increasing so I headed back down, along a different path. I steeled myself to the "fact" that the trip would be uneventful.

Going down was a whole different story. The trail still lit up for me as I descended, but I soon found myself running; at a rather uncomfortable pace. But I allowed the fear to withdraw; finding that my feet knew where to fall. The slope was loose, with much shale and small rocks; with plenty of cactus spines as well. Scanning with my eyes in soft focus, I spied something brilliant white to my right. It was atop a huge cluster of boulders, across a small ravine. I headed toward it.

The caprock of that cluster was covered in salty white dried guano. Some large birds used that place to rest. But not just to rest. The view of the canyon from there is spectacular! I sat there next to the guano patch for a long while; scanning yonder ridge and the watershed canyon before me. I stood for a bit and tried to aquire an eagle's gaze; finding that to be easy to do. But when I sat back down and looked at the guano patch I felt the image of a raven perched there. Just then I noticed a raven soaring over the ridge on the other side of Highway 518. It was just to the left of the sun, but I watched it anyway, in spite of the glare. When I returned my gaze to my side of the highway I found that the forest before me was crystal clear. It was as if each individual pine needle connected with my eyes; the rocks, the cactus spines. It was all vivid and pulsing with energy.

When the astounding nature of my visual clarity struck my rational mind I suddenly heard a chirp nearby. I whipped my head around to see a lone chickadee about 20 yards away. I watched as it hopped from branch to branch, toward me. But as it got very close I turned and looked down the canyon toward the Pecos Range. Out of my right eye, with my peripheral vision, I saw Chickadee appear, so I slowly turned to look. I had gained his trust. He sat not three feet from my face! All ruffled against the cold, he chirped away as he looked straight at me.

Chickadee arrived just when my rational mind noticed the enhanced nature of my vision. The clarity and brilliance had been resonating with my heart. But when my brain caught wind of it, Chickadee appeared. Chickadee represents truth; and the uncovering of the mysteries of the mind. I read that in a book, but today Chickadee demonstrated it fully, in realtime, real life, and in a level of perception that I can only call magical.

I love reading Christian de Quincey when he writes of panpsychicism. But I love it more when Nature shows me just what that means.