Awake at 6am, I begin preparing for my workout at the gym. I decide to train at KVCC instead of WMU’s recreation center because I want to get there earlier but upon arriving I find that the weight room doesn’t open until 8am. So I choose instead, to take an early morning stroll on a new wooded path that I happened to spot while driving a week earlier. About ten minutes into the hike I come upon two deer to the right of me about 20 yards away. The initial thought of "Sweet! Deer!” is piggy backed by the command “Drop down and be quiet.” I follow the instructions, squat on my calves, and direct my gaze to the ground with my attention focusing on calming my breathing rate. I notice that the deer do not run away but the intensely present stare that I see out of the corner of my eye demands me to be still. I am frozen in the position for roughly five minutes until I hear the crackling of twigs and notice that the deer are slowly beginning to forage. During this time, numerous thoughts enter my head but most of them relate to the stories told by a friend about the times he has become “one with the deer,” and has actually run with a group of wild deer. Although I believed he was telling the truth, I have always felt skeptical because I had never experienced something similar. However, as I squat in the now excruciating position I begin searching the depths of my mind for the magical techniques he had given me for walking with deer. The advice to “lower your gaze” and “move extremely slowly” is all that I find.
Shifting my weight to try to adjust my positioning closer to the deer proves ineffective because I snap a small twig and immediately the heads of the deer whip to attention. I am again frozen and realize the extra amount of patience that I will need. “What if it is possible?” “Should I do this?” “What if someone walking along sees me, I will probably look like a lunatic.” I push these interruptions aside and again breath deep yet silent. I wait another ten minutes until I hear twigs snap and notice the deer moving. I shift my weight, being ever so careful of the millions of opportunities littering the forest floor that might ruin this experience. I successfully move about a foot closer without startling the deer. Even though it has taken 15 minutes to move one foot I begin to realize that walking with deer might be possible. It takes about another half an hour to move off the path and into the border of the trees. The process is testing my patience, but I reassure myself that I am a little closer. I continue to look down every time the deer stare at me, and so far I have not scared them away.
About a full hour goes by with only minimal progress to show for it. None-the-less, the small progress I have made is reassuring. By now the tendons in my ankles feel like rubber bands stretched to the point of snapping, but I am jerked from my anguish by an alarming hiss and a pounding on the ground. I look up to see a buck just past the two doe menacingly warning me. I drop my eyes to the ground and am quiet. Fifteen minutes pass and I feel like it is safe to move. Slowly, I creep another foot closer. Looking up I see the buck has not dropped his gaze. “Shit! Why does there have to be a buck in the picture? I am not threatening his status I simply want to walk with the deer” I complain to myself. With his muscles poised for dashing I heed the warning sign and stay put. I never could have dreamed the extent of patience I was now being tested. The sound of twigs being my sign to move I inch my way closer. Discounting the periodic thundering stomps and hisses from the buck, the next half an hour seems to support my goal. I am roughly 15 yards away from the deer and am now sensing their curiosity in me. “What is this odd, slow moving creature that is heading toward us” I can imagine them questioning.
Over the next hour and a half I begin to slip in and out of a meditative pattern of movement and stillness with a definite increasing of proximity. An invisible but real boundary seems to separate their world from mine, and I realize that I am subtly asking them to accept me for who I am. My world of chaos seems to be in direct opposition to their harmonized, peaceful existence but one of us has to adapt in order for this relationship to work. As I see these magnificent creatures before me foraging on Mother Earth, I wonder how anyone can harm them. Naturally following the rules of God is their only crime with, in many cases, a bullet to the torso being their punishment. The word “unjust” seems to describe the situation well.
I notice that the woods have now come alive. As I dance in positioning with my deer partners the little critters of the forest begin their daily chores oblivious to my presence. Chipmunks scurry along the deadwood to my left. Enchanting music from the tree tops drift down to surround me like an early morning fog. Even the wiggling centipedes and work ants below my now comfortably adapted legs are no longer afraid and do I dare say, see me as a part of nature?
The reality that I may actually achieve my objective comes into full view when the gorgeous doe to my right curiously steps forward in my direction. She is still about ten yards away, but my heart joyously skips a beat when she breaks this barrier. She becomes still and wondrously looks at me as I again lower my eyes for fear of startling her. After 15 minutes or so the sight of her calmly foraging, signals the start of the next dance of positioning. I feel the solid wall that seemed to separate her and I before now begin to crumble. I recall a story a friend told me of how Native Americans could communicate with deer and would ask the deer to sacrifice it’s life so the Native American’s family could live. The man would slowly walk up to the deer, slit the throat, and thank it. I now realize the possibility of this story upon seeing the generosity and love in these creature’s eyes. I never understood before the depth of love and intelligence of deer.
Another hour passes with my graceful friends, and they hesitantly accept my request to come closer. The success for drawing nearer to the deer seems to weigh heavily upon that fact that I must remain still when they are still. But when they begin to move or eat, I can carefully move too. As I now mirror their actions to a greater degree of accuracy their level of trust appears to grow, and I am rewarded with a closing of distance. My awareness begins to expand as my breath synchronizes with the rhythm of the earth and the pace of our dance. I slowly become aware of a deeper level of joy in my heart. I notice that the rigid objective of “walking with the deer” has been replaced with a sense of surrender to the moment. As I become conscious of this shift of awareness I notice the barriers between the deer and I fall and in it’s place a sense of deep connection.
It has been about three and half hours since I entered into the woods, and I am about three yards away from the more curious doe in front of me with her sister four yards to the left. These gorgeous and gentle animals are wonderfully close, and I realize that the secret to moving in on the deer had everything to do with me. All of the progress I made was due to my non-threatening approach and my sincere desire for acceptance into the group. The curious doe begins to creep closer, and I am blessed with the sight of her magnificently clear, large, and deep brown eyes. She is now about a yard away, and I can almost reach out and touch her. The moment seems to be timeless as our eyes lock, two foreign creatures sharing a union of realities. I could stay in the trance for eternity but am jolted when all of the deer surrounding me spring like lightning off into the woods. My last glimpse is the white tails bouncing through the trees. I immediately wonder what I had done to scare them off but soon became aware of the sound of footsteps. Off in the distance an elderly man, appearing lost in his own reality clueless as to what his actions triggered, steps into the clearing. The first emotion that arises is a sense of disappointment that the experience had ended but is soon followed by thankfulness that it had happened. After the man continues on his merry way, I again spend time looking for my friends and do find them. However, I am unable to call upon the patience needed to move closer. I depart feeling elated and now whole-heartedly see the possibility of becoming “one with the deer”.
Grand Rapids, Michigan
