The danger of beauty. The beauty of danger.
Like many of you, we paid respect to a few rays of sunshine over the weekend, hoping for a glimpse of the finest beauty in the county -- grizzly “399” and her four cubs. My first thought was solidarity with the 23 year-old mama….How long is a bear year? More than a dog year? Reminds me of the tabloid story about the sixty-something year old woman who gave birth to twins. Fortunately or unfortunately, she was hard of hearing by then…
Before long, my “bear year” musings were silenced by the sheer beauty and wildness of my surroundings, the drama of light, gray, sun, snow, growth, and danger all coming into focus in a way that can only be sensed and experienced, beyond the utility of words.
The human brain is not altogether different from a mother exhausted by the incessant litany of things it takes to pacify her babies. Prioritize survival. Rinse, repeat. I still remember brushing my teeth with diaper cream, realizing I hadn’t eaten anything but granola bars in three straight days, choosing sleep over combed hair.
My brain gave me primitive commands that were pared down to calories and shut-eye. It sent clear cues, all pointing me toward survival. “Eat. Sleep. No need to get fancy. Just survive.” The human brain, like a resource-starved new mom, wants to be on the lookout for danger, and then get some rest. It has no need to get fancy.
But we know there is much more to life than survival. There is beauty, human connection, decision-making that is responsible and kind. Love. And, yes, danger, fear, pain, and infection. A full life has all these, and our job is to make sense of things, both simple and complex, with as much skill as we can muster.
Sitting on the side of the road in the world’s first national park, my mind was busy trying to sort things that didn’t fit neatly into categories. Mountain tops piercing the soft sky, aspiring to the warming sun, gave us pleasure. Then a sudden movement in the bushes jolted us. Grizzly 399 is, after all, a hungry, sleep-deprived carnivore, and I am now the slowest, plumpest one in our family.
The scene offered equal parts threat and beauty. Nature’s paradox.
As we emerge from our own hibernation of sorts, our systems understandably want to sort everything into categories of either “dangerous” or “not dangerous.” Fortunately, as we’ve been learning, there are more than two categories.
Ground yourself in what you know to be true, that we live in a world that is both beautiful and dangerous. Build the skill of pausing in the paradox, one attentive, aware breath at a time.
It is truly that simple. And that hard.
This week’s 11-minute guided practice: Mountain Meditation
Amy DiSanto, Spiritual Director at Medicine Wheel Wellness and one of our founding board members, recorded a Mountain Meditation for us. It’s her adaptation of a similar practice from Jon Kabat-Zinn.
This week’s pocket practice: Small Choice
This week, try making your choices intentional, not automatic. In the face of a minor conflict, pause.
Intentionally choose your category — dangerous, not dangerous, something in between?
Be aware that you do, indeed, have that power.
Practice pausing in the paradox. Then choose the beautiful.
“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”