Escape from Monday

"There is no race if the rats refuse to run." 

~ Origin uncertain, attributed to R. Amiton

There it was, out of place yet very much in place, an office building towering over the suburban trail.

So engaged I was in the midst of discovery, so focused on the beautiful beyond, I didn't even see it sneak up on me to one side.  This was yesterday...

Today I walked the trail again.  This time it was very much apparent on a sunny Monday morning, expected as it was.  Remembering another life of mine, I wondered how many eyes shrouded by darkened windows wistfully watched.  How many had watched even on Sunday?

What had they traded to sit there, day after day after day, at the shaded windows with a view? 

What might they trade to be free?

On my walk back, casually playing with shadows, I saw the narrow path.

A few, just a few, had apparently managed a lunchtime escape.

But is that really enough?

Independence Day

To truly embrace freedom, we must first release our fear of it...

I saw the moth immediately first thing this morning above my kitchen sink.  Alternating between resting and frantically throwing itself against my window, it clearly knew the sight of freedom but not the route to get there.  Some would choose to let it be or even kill it.  I immediately chose to set it free.  

Opening the window screen can be a rather complicated thing, so that I didn't attempt.  Instead I did what we always do with the occasional bug or spider we find.  I set about capturing it in a cup.

I caught it right away, and I even thought to write about it later, pondering this Independence Day.  How so often we see freedom, see an illusive (and elusive) way to get there, but the real route is something we can't even begin to know.  Liking the sound of this lesson, while holding the cup in one hand, I grabbed my iPhone in the other, planning to document the journey with a picture. 

Lately, Nature has been attempting to teach me a lesson about my camera.  I love to take pictures out in Nature with my iPhone, a practice that spontaneously skyrocketed all by itself in November (though with deep roots going all the way back to childhood).  It is a sacred practice.  And I have taken well over 3000 in about 8 months.

A couple days ago, I encountered deer on the trail, just as I had the day before.  The day before, I was so hasty to take a picture, I hardly had a chance to enjoy the presence of the deer.  But I got another chance.   The deer appeared again, immediately on the trail before me, astonishingly close, an open invitation in the eyes of one I have come to know.  

"Follow me..."  

I couldn't help but listen, a mystical moment - yet Real - my camera at rest. The deer gently walked around the bend and paused, waiting.  Sacred.  Still.  Magic.  I allowed the moment to BE for as long as it needed to BE.  And then as if by permission...knowing...I snapped a picture, only then...

The deer disappeared right after, as if on cue, and I stopped to immerse myself in one of my favorite groves of trees.  A particular tree caught my attention as the trees often do, the light of the sun on one side, so I did what it is I do and took another picture.

I don't always check the pictures I take right away, but for some reason, I did this time.  What was it I immediately saw?  Magic.  Pure Magic.  Captured on my camera.  The image of the deer as clear as day, even clearer than the picture on the trail, a Magical Presence gazing peacefully in the midst of the Light.  This was the Gift of my sacred forest, which frees my spirit almost every day.

I have since learned this image is rather elusive for the rest of you, but trust me, it is as clear as clear can be.  Keep looking...it is Real.

That was yesterday.

So today, as I carried my frantic friend from Nature in a cup to the door, about to take a picture of the cup in my hand, the moth immediately escaped of course.  Lesson learned.  Again.  Let the camera be.  

Determined, I captured it again in the living room and this time raced to the door.  When the door opened, the moth disappeared so fast, I didn't even see it go.  Free!

Independence Day doesn't always arrive in the way we expect.  As souls, we even choose to trap ourselves to better know what it might look like.  Love will set us free, no matter what the route.  Love sets us free each and every time.

P.S.  Might I mention the doe and two fawns I saw for the very first time today in the meadow by the forest?  This time, I didn't even try to take a picture.  But they surely set my spirit free...

I will be talking about the remarkable picture of the "Light Deer" with the wonderful Tracie Mahan on a radio program she is guest hosting Monday, July 14 at 11 AM Pacific.  Stay tuned for details on FrontierBeyondFear.com.

All photographs copyright Susan Larison Danz, 2014.