Does Your Soul Need “Elk Space?”
“The soul is like a wild animal—tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.” Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life – Kindle location 615.
JOSSEY-BASS APRIL 28, 2009 ASIN: B0029U1RGA
God’s grace empowers us to sit quietly with ourselves and one another, so we become brave enough to be seen out in the open. Wild things that we are, if you and I love one another—in good times and bad, through best behavior and our foibles—you and I will demonstrate his faithful presence as well as our own.
This reminds me of a nature encounter I had on a trip to Montana a few years ago. There, sweeping spaces are interrupted only by mountains that slice their way skyward out of valley floors. (If you saw “A River Runs Through It,” starring a baby-faced Brad Pitt, I don’t need to say much more.) “Big Sky Country” is like Narnia for nature-lovers. That being us, my wife, Maritza, and I have stayed in a cabin there many times. One early morning, just as C.S. Lewis’ heroine, Lucy, was drawn to step through the wardrobe, I found myself tugged outside and quietly padding a familiar trail alone in search of wildlife. V-e-r-y slowly and deliberately, I took each step—leading with my heel, trying not to snap twigs as my weight shifted forward. To my right stretched a wide-open meadow, and on my left were woods that became increasingly dense as the ground rolled higher up the hill. I could scarcely hear my breath (I like to think that I would have made a great game tracker on the western frontier).
I’d gone about 150 yards when it happened. I looked up, and there sharing my silence, stood a majestic bull elk about 20 feet away in the woods. He was busy enjoying his breakfast. We locked eyes for a moment, and, as I exhaled, he went back to grazing. It was kind of magical. Every so often, he’d glance at me again between bites. Head in the grass, the elk slowly worked his way through the woods parallel to my path. Keeping my distance and a good number of trees between us, I walked silently further down the path. Seemingly unconcerned, the elk would occasionally stop eating and look up at me. When eventually he wandered out of sight into a dense grove of trees, I thought it best to turn back (I didn’t want to surprise another, less friendly form of wildlife). Honestly, I probably shouldn’t have been out there alone. With that in mind, I made plenty of noise as I headed back to our cabin for my own breakfast.
My adventure in the wild highlights what Palmer alludes to: our souls need “elk space.” Everyone can learn from adventures on the trail. If we are to join one another in the wild, we must create conditions that invite each other out in the open. In that space, we can best observe, invite, and companion one another through the forest.
This blog is an excerpt from my new book, Beyond Becoming: A Field Guide to Sustainable, Transformational Community. Stay tuned for more blogs – and exciting updates about the upcoming Beyond Becoming launch.