Second Cocoon

If Tracker School was a time of awakening for me then my time thus far at Wilderness Awareness School has been one of entering the second cocoon.

The Pacific Northwest has taught me that not everything nor every experience can be articulated into understandable tangible terms. I recently was made more aware of this reality when I had a rather lengthy discussion with someone (I believe) has no capacity for understanding the journey that I am undergoing. I found myself getting frustrated because I couldn't better describe my experience.

Enter the poetry of Mary Oliver, especially the one in my previous post. I think if I had those words readily available to me then I might have been able to better communicate my journey. A note to self: carry that poem with you so that you might better communicate in the future.

I was fully aware of what I was getting myself into when I left Illinois a little over 3 months ago. I knew that this time would develop and push my wilderness skills to new depths and I also knew that my marriage would be stretched and would grow stronger as a result. Both have certainly happened! I also might have told you then that I thought there would be an element of spiritual growth as well; but I never thought that most of my development has been one of a spiritual nature and I liken it to a rite of passage that I have not had up until this point in my life. This is why I feel that what is happening is an entering of the second cocoon. So much of what is happening to me right now cannot be explained and it rightly feels like a rebirth or better said a returning to a time when life was being lived to the fullest.

Another significant shift that occurred didn't make itself known until I came back home for Thanksgiving. My time spent in the church suddenly felt as though I didn't belong. This wasn't just somewhat of a notion that I had, it was felt deep in my blood and bones, something that I have never felt before. I'm in the process of discerning what that means...

I believe that I've entered the "wild night" in my life as Oliver put it. And any attempt to try and define or explain what is happening will be a shortcoming of the experience itself. Maybe I'm better off just reading the poem and not getting into too many specifics. What I'm doing now is saving myself so that I will be able to live the rest of my life from the depths of my heart.

The best response I've been able to come up with at this time when asked "Tell me about what you're doing," has been to simply say "Come and spend a day with me in the woods, and you'll see."