Moving With Confident Moose Wisdom
The Moose Totem is found in the North of the Native American medicine wheel, as is Buffalo. North represents the place of wisdom. Self-esteem is the medicine of Moose, because it represents the power of recognizing that wisdom has been used in a situation and that recognition or a pat on the back is deserved. There is a bit more to it than that…self-expression, self-acceptance, self-trust…all centered around maturing wisdom. The following is an example of how moose energy turned me around on a journey full of self-doubt.
It had been one a heck of a week so far. Vehicle breakdowns and other problems sidelined me on my Colorado odyssey by 4 days. The previous 24 hours before things went awry, I was in a bit of an ecstasy of sorts with myself. I started the trip going to the Grand Canyon, but along the way my intuitive heart that I have been trying to get to know better said ‘turn right and trust’. Before I knew it, I was making it up mile by mile, eventually driving through a Monument Valley sunset and into a Colorado sunrise.
Once past Glenwood Springs, I had some places in mind, and figured I would just keep making it up and trusting and exploring as I go…heading in the general direction without timeline, exploring where ever my heart moment by moment took me. I felt so good, so confident, so present to myself in the most subtle ways. “How could I go wrong!?!?” I jubilated, as I made yet another turn onto yet another rough dirt road I didn’t know…7 miles later in the deep of nearly nowhere, my transmission blew…that’s when I really started questioning myself.
Fast forward four days later after I picked up all the pieces of my various breakdowns, I had a choice. Go home with my tail between my legs, licking the wounds of frustration squandered precious time and financial expense, more of a blood-letting, that had me doubting myself, OR pull myself up and go back out for what I came here for…The decision was the later, courage, but not without lingering doubt.
The next afternoon while making my way to a possible sunset shooting location, I wondered if I had the right plan, or if I was just going to squander another sunset. Something needed to go right, and I was suddenly having a difficult time trusting my intuition and decisions. It didn’t help to realize that I was heading back to the same general area where I broke down before…my other option was to go the opposite direction back to an area I observed rutting moose after sunset the evening before...that's what I wanted, but it took me the wrong direction…I kept going despite wanting to capture moose, trying to catch a glimpse of that heartful intuitive compass I dropped days before.
I turned the steep and sharp highway corner around a descending embankment above me on the right, that gave way into a meadowed brushy field below the upcoming guardrail…I slammed on the brakes holding steady with one hand on the wheel while the other stopped my dog from ending up in the windshield. What I remember in my mind looking back on it is being impressed that I could so clearly see the whites of this bull moose’s eyes, as it scrambled out of the road in front of me, around the beginning of the guardrail, and up into the wooded embankment to my right. I caught my breath, popped the Jeep into reverse, and did a fast and furious style of parallel parking maneuver to end up next to the embankment, behind the guardrail in the little patch of dirt that existed.
Chasing animals into the woods is not my style…it doesn’t work…at best you get a shot of a beast's butt running away from you, not to mention chasing anything is stressful to the quarry, so I don’t chase…I anticipate…but that requires self-trust and at this moment I was still shaking off the intuitive-heart debacle.
There was no one else here, he is all mine if I can find him again. I took my time getting out, paying attention to the path he took and the surrounding terrain in all directions…breathing slowly, seeing all details, as if in a waking meditation, I deployed my big rig just by feel and patiently waited many more moments before finally starting my stalk...No sense is rushing, the moose either kept running, or it ran a short distance to presumed safety and then will continue its prior intended course. My assumption of the later is the meadow further down on this side of the highway, so I will move to intercept him where he might come down and reenter the scene.
With anticipation of his movement through the steep forested terrain, drawing upon my experiences watching the patterns of elk and deer in terrain similar to this, 3 minutes later I found myself face-to-face in the path of the bull. He was above me on the slope, peering through the camouflaging bows of pine that surrounded his mighty head and antlers. Once again, I was present to his eyes…the whites were bloodshot. A slight bleating grunt and two steps forward, he emerged nearly into full view and then stopped to reconsider me.
I stood there motionless, not out of fear…I felt little fear. I felt great respect, I felt great reverence, I felt connection as we studied each other calmly…yet also simultaneously aware of the risk and the space around me -- that which I could see, and the rest by intimate recall of my meditative walk to this spot; turning my back is not an option. I was aware, in tune with myself and the beast above me. Moments continued to pass and then he turned his head with another slight grunt, as if permission granted. I took a burst of shots and then lowered the camera. He studied me again.
At first glance it was like he was looking into me, and I energetically let him. Then without movement the focus changed…I no longer felt his attention, he was looking through me, past me. Without turning my head, my mind’s eye of the terrain knew what he wanted and knew where it was. I took a few steps backwards and then a few more sideways, and motioned with my hand to the space I just vacated, the area between me and the meadow. With another calm grunt, he descended the slope past me, calmly walking by, down the continued slope towards the meadowed area I had seen before. Back to the Jeep I go, because I don’t shoot butts.
Back at the road, I walked the guardrail out to a view over the meadow where he was now emerging. It was just me, on the side the road, with my big rig and tripod shooting away…for a moment anyway. Within minutes, 8 cars had pulled over out of curiosity for what I was doing…this was no longer an intimate moment. I stopped shooting, enjoying the moments of him rubbing his antlers against the scrub bushes, and observing the slow and deliberate path he was taking. I concluded this scene was done, and that the bull was moving in a direction that would intersect with the highway again, about quarter mile down the hill of long gentle S curves. I hesitated awhile wondering if I really had that right, until I was belatedly convinced he was going where I thought. I packed up and started driving, trusting my instinct, and I was right, however just a few moments too late as he had just finished crossing the road again by the time I rolled over…if only I didn’t hesitate.
I got out of the Jeep anyway and walked across the highway to the opposite downhill guardrail…he was descending quickly and nearly out of view into the forest again. I considered giving up at this moment…he was heading a direction that was not going to intersect again. Looking at the terrain, I concluded he would not keep that direction, as it would be a difficult path, and will turn to continue to follow the downhill terrain to where it intersects the river further down the valley…how can I get there? I drove a mile down the road and saw an area that his path might lead him to…to a place to cross the river…a place where I would have another high vantage point, if he did what I hoped. Out of the jeep I go, down a bushy-tree slope till I hit a canyon edge. The spot provided a 180 degree field of view below me where that forest comes down to the bottom of the canyon where the water was...I waited…and then I heard his report…far off, distant, barely audible.
I patiently listened more…there it was again…just a little closer. Like grunting sonar repeating with occasional twig-snaps, I measured the distance and the direction of the noise in the forest across from me and repositioned. Moments later he emerged in the distance, catching glimpses of his massive form as he moved through the conifer and oak, across the river, and into the scrub brush below me. I worked hard to capture him with separation from the terrain and brush, but he kept in the mess, moving through it gracefully, until I saw him turn and start to head a different direction, back uphill…if I’m right I can pick him up again.
One last look at the terrain, and recalling a beaver damn I was working the day before near the road side, I concluded I could intersect him again at the beaver pond, and back to the jeep I hiked. Back at the Jeep, it seems that people watching me from the previous encounter, saw my jeep parked down the road, so they decided they better park too. As I got in and turned the ignition, one man makes eye contact with me. I can see in his eyes that he is trying to figure out if I am still on the chase or giving up…I drive by and motion that I am still on the chase.
I don’t park at the beaver pond…I know I won’t see him approach it well if I go straight there…I need to catch him moving by me, towards it, with a better unobstructed view. I park about 200 yards before getting th