A Few Field Notes

The responsiveness of life, feeling around for it

The other day I went for a walk, and a beautiful coyote crossed my path.

I had stopped to revel in a jewel of blue sliding overhead. The winds were up, as they often are across the Sierra Crest. The clouds were careening across the horizon in a mad dash towards some unknown destination. The sky was obscured, save for this transitory opening - which I apprehended and devoured with my eyes.

The minute I stopped to look up, I caught the shape of the coyote crossing the road not fifty feet ahead. It paused in my direction. Continued up the hill and paused again, before disappearing into the rocks and ever-green manzanita.

I was delighted to my core. For one, to fall in sync with the patterns of a wild creature of the earth. Secondly, because not an hour earlier I had specifically thought, “I hope I see a coyote.”

I knew they were in the area, so I didn’t have any doubt about the possibility. My brother had seen one on his run a month prior. I had memories of watching one slink up the front yard and around into the neighbors’, and just days ago had caught the shadow of one trotting along the eastern border of the yard in the dark of the night.

I knew it was possible. I wasn’t blocking my desire.

Still. To think a thought and have it answered in such an obvious way feels like a gift.

When I had the initial thought, it was casual, non-mandatory. I was going enjoy my walk regardless.

But wouldn’t it be nice…

A soft suggestion of the possibility.

And then I focused on other things. The movement of my body. The wind. The sensation of the precipitation falling as snow, as sleet, as a misty rain. I focused on the ravens cajoling above my head, calling out to them klook klook as they took turns barrel-rolling over the treetops. I completely forgot about coyotes or wanting to see them.

I had held the thought for an instant. And then I let it go. Completely.

It is unnecessary to continue to send the signal of what we want. One thought is enough.

One thought is enough.

Yesterday I went for another walk. This time among the sagebrush, the hawk-lands, the valley - the eastern slopes of the Sierras rising steeply above me. The sun was blazing, the shade was cold. I walked to the creek at the end of the road, and sat on a stone so I could visit with the waters. I brought a few contemplations which I shared with the babble, the waters soothing and shushing the subjects at hand until only a statement remained - which I decidedly thought:

Nothing is pre-ordained.

As in, there is no one in the sky saying this is the life you must lead with this trial or these tribulations, these happenings. No one is deciding our purpose or path, except us. We are the deciders. We are the only ones ordaining anything. There is no Lord of Karma, no parser of destiny, no Sisters of Fate, except our own fateful beliefs. If we believe in a destiny predetermined by another, then by the laws of vibration coalescing into matter we will prove to ourselves that which we decide to believe.

Nothing is pre-ordained, the future is unmanifest, infinitely flexible, available for our vision and dream.   

In the very moment I thought nothing is pre-ordained, a large shadow crossed over the sun. I was sitting with my back to our star, and the shadow happened in the landscape in front of my eyes. Only a very large bird has that kind of presence, that kind of shifting of light, that kind of influence. At first I thought hawk, but as soon as I turned, the great form of eagle was obvious. Circling towards me then around and off into the higher reaches of the atmosphere. White head and tail, wings pushing.

When I see eagle it means broader perspective, larger mind, wider view - and in this instance a certain affirmation. Sometimes eagle tells me to rise up out of my current state. Sometimes eagle tells me I’m right on track. Always, eagle reminds me that there is a part of who I am that is aware and awake beyond measure or time.

A pair of ravens enjoying each other’s company

Now the rain is beating a timpani on the roof. There are feet of snow accumulating up at elevation. My belly is full of fish, there are flowers on the table.

The other day I read the words “feel good” and I sensed a subtle shift in emphasis. Instead of “feel good” as in “feel happy,” I read: feel (for what is) good. Am I feeling for good? Am I feeling around with my vibrational sensors, with my heart-field, for what resonates, with what soothes, with what brings me relief and soul relaxation?

Or am I feeling around for what feels dissatisfying, disturbing, disempowering, discouraging?

I sense how I feel around for the vibrational content of things. It’s a somatic experience, that I interpret further with thinking. Funny how sometimes we find a vibration that feels so bad, and then we focus on it, talk about it, take action about it. Growing it more and more and more. All the while, we’re the ones who have felt around for it. We’re the ones who are keeping it active. We’re the only ones who can let it go.

I feel that kind of letting go in my heart. Physically.

It’s not even a letting go, so much as it is an opening. A relaxing. A coming back to center.

That center of feeling good.

Feeling around for the good that is us.

A sweet sigh of relief.

I like knowing that I’m the only one who can complicate my life.

I like knowing that I’m the one who can simplify it.

I like knowing that I am the Lord of my own Karma

I like knowing there is nothing I am meant to do, besides what I am meaning for myself.

I like knowing that life mirrors to me my beliefs, my thoughts, the vibration I have felt around for.

I like knowing that there is a part of me, wings outstretched, soaring on the winds of a wider perspective.

I like knowing that my thoughts matter.

I like knowing that the universe is responding to my thoughts.

I like knowing that we are all in this together. And that the experience each one of us is having is adding immeasurably the whole we are a part of.

Here’s to feeling around for the good ☉

~ Emma