Encounter: Coyotes
© Robin Easton - All Rights Reserved
I often hear coyotes yipping and howling on my night walks. Occasionally I see them through the day, a hundred feet or more away, like elusive ghosts who silently vanish into dry grass and chamisa, shapeshifters of the desert.
One winter day while walking barefoot along a small creek that was only six inches deep and three feet wide, two coyotes, a male and a female, came down a ridge on the opposite side of the creek. They easily could have crossed the shallow water, but they stopped on their side, with only ten feet between us.
As they drew closer to me and the creek, they started a shrill, high-pitched, and very frenzied yipping. The sound grew so loud; my ears ached. They yipped and glared with intensely piercing eyes. Although they didn’t growl or make huffing sounds, the warning was obvious and not to be ignored, "Go away. This is our territory. What are you doing here? We don't want you here. Go away, now!"
I felt very aware with my senses heightened, and yet, I was not afraid. Having communicated in close proximity with many wild species, and many that most humans consider highly dangerous, I no longer tend to respond in the recommended manner of loud shouting, clapping, arm-waving, banging tin cans, looking directly at them, even charging if necessary…at least not initially. I immediately feel into what the other species might be feeling, what they need, want, and are telling me.
At times like this, I tend to be very curious, and yet also extremely respectful. I love understanding these wild aspects of life…and myself. I am irresistibly compelled to see if communion is possible, without food or touch, just soul to soul communication.
Without making direct eye contact, I still watched the coyotes as they drew very close to me with only the creek between us. I grounded myself so I could respond with calm, conscious choice. I could feel that although loud and assertive, they were very frightened of me. As I stood there, I felt an overwhelming wave of fear and grief coming from them to me. It suddenly hit me that this was a well-used hiking trail and this beautiful couple were angry at humans for constantly invading their home, their privacy…just as I had.
As I felt their grief, frustration, and even weariness, I knew that I couldn’t challenge those honorable and very real emotions. I did not want them to feel challenged or unnecessarily frightened. I wanted them to know that I understood and grieved with them.
I very softly began to talk with them. "Yes, I understand; this is your home. I’m the intruder. You have too many intruders don’t you, dear Wild Ones. I know. I’ll leave you in peace. You're safe with me. It's alright. I won’t hike up your ridge. I'm headed down the creek, away from you.” I pointed to myself and then downstream. Their heads turn in that direction. They knew.
I spoke very softly, with my words dragged out, soothing them as I calmly and steadily continued to walk forward. I didn’t totally turn my back on them, but kept them always in view, ready to respond if needed.
As they followed me on their side of the creek, the wave of grief I’d felt pouring into my soul grew in intensity, until I was moved to emit a deep, slow moan. I couldn’t help myself. At that, the female coyote startled, stopped yipping, stared intently at me, and gave a mournful, almost human cry. My heart broke with tears.
The two coyotes kept pace with me on their side of the creek. As I continued to softly talk, the yapping of the larger male dwindled to a halfhearted little yip here and there. I then noticed that they occasionally stopped walking. I kept calmly moving forward, but they did not stay put. They continued to follow me without any further sounds. As I kept walking, they would stop again, but when I continued to walk on, they would continue to walk with me, on their side of the creek. Then they would stop again. It was stop-start for another hundred yards before I realized, they actually wanted me to stop. So, I did.
I turned to face this striking couple, with their lush, winter-thick fur and beautiful souls. They stood on one side of the creek, and me on the other, now barely six feet apart. Perfectly still and calm we stared into each other’s eyes for eternity, all sense of time gone. We stood so close that our clouds of winter breath flowed into each other.
In this vast space, I felt the point at which they let me know that they understood me. I felt this pass through me as instant knowing, soul to soul. I felt in my own being their awareness of me. Through their eyes, I saw myself, my purest, most exposed self, as if we had known each other a thousand years. I had nothing to hide. Laid bare they saw all of me, even my pain.
I felt their thoughts flood into me, so clear, so obvious. They wanted me to know that they understood me and that they knew that I understood them. They wanted me to see and feel their acute intelligence, their ability to love. I could barely breathe for feeling the extreme brilliance of their awareness. As their wisdom pumped into me, I felt my own wisdom expand, as if my brain, body, and very DNA were rearranging…permanently…for all time.
Oh, dear God, forgive us. We humans are the ignorant, arrogant ones who do not see. Please help us open our hearts to such exquisite beauty and love. Helps us to live with empathy for all life. For without the Wild, we are lost.
Something happened as we stood there, so close together, the three of us with our bare feet in the ice and snow, touching the same Living Earth, breathing the same numinous air, animal to animal, each soul pouring into the other.
** Story Continues Below Photo.
I forgot where I was, who I was, where I'd come from, and what I was doing there. I didn’t care. I willfully let go and drowned in a vastness so great, I forgot I was even human. I felt only our primal connection, so utterly profound and vast that separation throughout the entire Cosmos vanished.
Warm tears flowed down my winter-cold face. As if in a distant dream, I heard the coyotes breathing. I smelled their breath. They smelled mine. So close. So blissfully close and safely merged one into the other. We stared and flowed together until there was only Love. The feeling so enveloped me; I heard a soft moan escape from deep in my throat, “Mmmm.” At the sound, the male coyote’s tail suddenly started to wag in a swirling motion. His mouth relaxed, slightly opened, and seemed to smile. I smiled back. Oh, the joy of connection. I felt delirious with love.
We stared a bit longer, then the magnificent male abruptly turned and slowly headed through the snow, and back up the ridge. His beautiful mate followed. Both were silent. Neither one looked back as they vanished into the trees.
I knew they would remember me; at such closeness, we had exchanged breath, scent, emotions…and souls. I knew I could walk that trail in six months or a year’s time or more and if we crossed paths, they would know me. They would follow me along the creek in silent communion. That is the way of Wild Love. It never forgets its own.
I barely finished the rest of my walk before I began to return to my body and could safely drive home. I had so completely become the Common Experience of Existence that ‘Robin’ had ceased to exist. In truth, I had become what I’ve always been and will always be, what we all are…One Original Love.
Much love to you,
my precious Soul Friends.
Robin
© Robin Easton - All Rights Reserved
www.robineaston.com
-- EXCERPT FROM: Robin Easton's upcoming book, "Seeing the World With Wild Eyes."
NOTE: I have lived many years in and with the wild in various parts of the world, and being acutely empathic I tend to break many of the rules when interacting with other species. However, I cannot stress enough the importance of educating yourself on the wild species that inhabit your area. Take time to find out who you are living with, whose territory are you entering, and are you entering it with consideration for the needs and well being of the wild families that live there. What do the various species in your area need in order to feel safe and not threatened? It is always a good idea to know the appropriate response to any of the species that could potentially harm you…if they feel threatened. Remember that our human presence is often very frightening. Sadly, we have a long history of brutally abusing the Wild Ones.
Take time to learn about the highly intelligent beings that you live with. It will not only keep you safe and unharmed, but it will also keep the Wild Ones safe and unharmed. Through knowledge and understanding, you will enrich your life experience and remember your Original Connection to all life. You will begin to respond to the world around you with a more open, calm, and loving heart. You will find that you begin to live with less fear and more curious awareness. Here is one page that shares the preferred responses to twenty-one wild species. https://stacker.com/stories/1064/what-do-when-you-encounter-these-21-animals-wild
© Robin Easton
www.robineaston.com