Way of the Deer
© Robin Easton - All Rights Reserved
“Curious Deer” — Our first meeting in sacred trust, high upon the mountain. She was fascinated by my soft voice. Kindred, gentle souls recognize each other. Over the years she stood with me many times in merged, soulful warmth. Eventually she birthed “The Twins" (photo below).NOTE: This true story was written just a few years ago. The events took place while I lived in a tiny casita on the edge of a small rugged mountain. Throughout the story, I share photos (with captions) of various members of my Deer Tribe. There are many more members, each with their own unique personality and story, but I could only share a few photos in this space. I have since moved from the mountain, but both the deer and the experience will be with me for the rest of my life, and beyond. Love. Robin
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WAY OF THE DEER
The Mountain I share with deer, coyotes, rabbits, snakes, bobcats, mountain lions, bears, birds, rats, mice, and more isn’t especially high. While it’s only a foothill of the proud Sangre de Cristo Mountains here in northern New Mexico, it’s very steep in many places. The terrain is wild, rugged, and covered in boulders, ready-to-roll and crush. Each time I climb the mountain, loose marble-sized rocks remind me to tread consciously. Endless logs of pinon dead-fall require flexibility and balance as I squeeze my way through clusters of claw-like branches. Hidden gopher holes can give way when trodden upon, and sprain or even break an unsuspecting hiker’s ankle. Rivers of prickly pear cactus tumble down the mountainside like green waterfalls. Nearby patches of loose gravel can land you on your backside, doomed to tweezering out spines all night long. Searing-sharp branches of cholla cactus can accidentally be grabbed to recover one’s balance—a painful mistake and more tweezering into the night, a mistake that prompted me to start wearing thick leather gloves. The mountain is some of the wildest and most challenging terrain I've ever climbed barefoot. Its absence of tidy, well-groomed trails, demands my full attention, a challenge in consciousness that I adore.
When I first entered into relationship with the mountain, daily exploring her wonders, I had to bushwhack upward, picking and choosing my way. I’ve done a lot of bushwhacking in my life, and very little tidy-trail hiking, mostly due to my remote living. However, this was the slowest, steadiest climb I have ever experienced, an obstacle course demanding respect, awareness, and balance.
After a few days of hiking, I noticed several narrow trails leading under thick, low hanging branches. I saw rabbit, coyote, packrat, and other small animal tracks. I once spied a large, magnificent gopher snake following one of these narrow trails for almost a hundred yards. His black tongue flicked in and out, as he tasted the air, and followed the scent of the packrat I spied just ahead of him. Their ancient story was written in desert sand. Rat’s dainty, scurrying feet and Snake’s slow, slithering spine led to a pile of rocks covered with mounds of dead cholla cactus and prickly pear pads, the Rat’s midden, or den. Suddenly, upon seeing the snake, Rat’s eyes bulged, and terror lunged him into the rocks, safe in his den. Patient Gopher Snake slithered onward in search of an easier meal.
Ahh, the supreme intelligence of packrats that cover their middens with dangerous spines, and use the dens generation after generation. Not many would risk the potential piercing of cactus spines, some two to three inches long. Having pulled dozens of jagged spines from my hands, I marvel at the toughness of Rat’s tiny mouth and minuscule feet. Oh, how often we humans do not see the acute intelligence of our Wild Brethren. However, there is nothing ignorant about Nature.
A few times I saw a bobcat on one of the narrow trails, possibly following the scent of a rabbit. One animal followed the other, and I--the human animal—being curious and eager to learn, followed them all. Life is always curious about itself.
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The Matriarchs, “Mother” and “Little Mother” — The first time they saw me, their front hoofs raised, ready to stomp the ground in warning. At the sound of my slow, soft voice, we all relaxed without any need of stomping. The larger matriarch birthed “Curious Deer.” Throughout the seasons we met many times to share love. ———————————
Over the days as I hiked the mountain, farther and farther afield, I started to spot wider, more open trails, mostly made by deer, but I also noticed the occasional bear, bobcat, coyote, and mountain lion tracks.
The more deer trails I hiked, the more I merged with the rhythms of life on the mountain. I felt deeply drawn to the sensitivity and awareness of the deer, such elegant beings. One day, I realized that their network of trails was very extensive. I started to seek these wider trails and use them whenever I could. I began to find more and more sub-trails that connected to the main trails, but were less used. Slowly, I put together a map of the mountain and the movement of the deer.
I loved walking the way of the deer, and did so day after day. I felt their lingering energy on the trail, all the way up the mountain. Although they weren’t at first on the trail with me, I nonetheless felt that I walked with the deer. I felt them all around me. My bare feet left a scent in the sand and on the rocks and fallen trees, which the deer later smelled. In this way they became familiar with my passing, and even curious about my presence in their world. I also grew to recognize their scent, even in the absence of droppings and urine. I could smell their fur, a pungent smell I found reassuring. Year after year, the deer permeated my being. I became a natural occurrence in their world. I was the only human who hiked the mountain. I never saw another human print…of any kind.
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“Brave Deer” — She recovers from a mountain lion attack. Huge raking claws clung to her shoulders as she bucked and twisted to finally shake off the lion. His claws left deep black scars (see in photo). She went on to recover…while she carried twin fawns. After she grew to know me, she brought her fawns out of hiding to show me, just like any proud mother might do. Her enduring spirit is unlike any I have ever known. You can read her true story of courage and survival here: BRAVE DEER———————————
Aside from the deer’s fresh tracks and droppings, I garnered far more information through my bare feet, as I literally waded through the deer’s recent energy. There is something about hiking barefoot that connects us more fully to all Earth Energies, both current energies and older, lingering energies. This animated presence is loaded with information: the deer’s emotional state, their purpose, and the urgency or ease they feel as they pass through. In fact, this energetic information is so powerful that it—along with more physical signs—can inform any herd members that follow behind, and also inform other species. It is not something the deer think about; it’s something they become, something they are.
I too was ‘becoming.’
Following the Way of the Deer always returns me to my Original, wild state of being.
I also realized that my Deer Friends had remarkable skill at avoiding bothersome branches, cactus, large boulders, and so on. They chose ways to minimize the obstacles, ways that would not have occurred to me. As I followed them, I learned how to effortlessly navigate the mountain. Because of my Deer Friends, I grew to know the mountain intimately, and much faster than I would have without my Deer Family.
Although these beautiful beings are intensely brilliant, they were not without their own mishaps…just like me. I sometimes saw painful drag marks in the sand, made from a limping hoof, an ankle sprained or broken in a gopher hole. Occasionally, I spied a tuft of blood-stained fur still clinging to cholla spines. Someone brushed too close and was snagged. I too had made this mistake.
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“The Twins” — Curious Deer’s now grown twins. They were inseparable and moved almost as one unit. Much like their mother, they too were curious. Twins can be birthed by the same mother-doe, yet each sired by a different father-buck.———————————
After following deer trails for many months, there came a day that I chose to do some careful bushwhacking. It was in a new area of the mountain where I wanted to try some bouldering on a small, steep cliff. To reach the boulder-riddled cliffs, I was forced to head straight up the mountain, as opposed to meandering the deer trails.
There was something unexpected and stunningly intrinsic about this experience. I had already learned from my Deer Family how to wander the mountain with the least possible impact on the Living Earth, and also with the most ease. And, because I hike barefoot, I had to be as conscious as the deer who continually watch where they wander, leap, and run. We all knew the danger and what to avoid. I have always thrived on this piercingly keen, fully conscious state of being. I now know it is my soul’s only way of being.
When I started to bushwhack up the mountain to the steep cliffs, I had to carefully pick my way just as the deer had taught me. As I hiked, I created my own narrow, low impact trail straight up the mountain. I avoided fragile plant life and disturbed as few rocks as possible. Although my trail was not even visible to the human eye, after about a week, I noticed that my Deer Tribe began to walk my trail. They seemed to love to walk where I walked, just as I loved to walk where they walked. I was moved to tears.
I followed their tracks to the top of my trail at the cliff and then noticed that the deer did not continue. They turned around and went back down the same trail. Their tracks told me that they did this almost daily. But we were doing it at different times of the day. I went up before them, in the dark of dawn, sometimes with a flashlight. They went up the trail three or four hours later.
Then something incredible happened. The deer and I began to merge our movements, our scents, and our view of the mountain. Slowly, without any planning on my part, we began to walk the trail closer and closer to the same time of day, halfway between my dark-dawn and their mid-morning. What we saw, smelled, and tasted merged into one shared experience. I was becoming the Deer, and the Deer were becoming me. Our souls merged, and we both knew that the other was aware of this merging. We all could feel it in the energy on the trail. A type of electrical ‘charge’ existed between us, a conduit of energetic communication. This sparked life-giving excitement.
Furthermore, this ‘charge’ acted like an antenna between us. They could pick up my ‘charge’ and I could pick up theirs. From this, we began to automatically sense where we each were on the mountain. Instinctively we were compelled to follow this alluring ‘charge.’ Inevitably we met on the mountain, any day, any time…day after day, month after month, and year after year…we found each other, and communed.
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“Magnificence” — He was the largest alpha buck on the mountain. He wandered solo, and rarely hung out with the ‘bachelor’ bucks, or the doe group. Yet, he often came to me on the mountain, and sometimes stood outside my casita window, until I went outside and wandered up the mountain with him. He had the gentlest soul of all the bucks. You can see the tenderness in his eyes as he listens to my soft voice, waiting for me to follow. We shared a deep mutual respect and enduring love. ———————————
The third occurrence happened when some tragic events in my life prevented me climbing the mountain for three months. I was unable to sit with my wild friends, converse, and exchange breath. Yet, because I had already wandered with the deer for almost five years, our merged connection was still felt. The ‘charge’ between us went unbroken.
In my absence I thought of my Deer Friends every single day. I felt them out there on the mountain just beyond the walls of my casita. Even as I lay immobile in my bed, my soul wandered with the deer. Single file, we climbed steep, rocky slopes, and slowly descended into deep, sandy ravines. They roamed through my mind and soul just as they roamed the mountain through all forces of nature. Yes, I felt the deer. More astounding, I felt them…feeling me, missing me. Deeper still, they knew that I missed them. They wondered, “Where are you? What happened to you? Why do you not wander with us…anymore? Are you alright?” Their questions floated through my mind. I answered. They understood.
In fact, the deer understood so well, that they began to seek me out. One or more of my Deer Family came down the mountain, stood outside my casita window, and stared in…at me. These Tribal Ambassadors were sent to check on their missing Family Member, and to be with me in my absence from the Tribe.
With time, I was able to return to the mountain. I renewed my hikes on my own bushwhacked-trail straight up the mountain to the cliff of boulders. As I climbed, all I could think about was my Deer Family. Yet, I noticed that now there were no deer tracks on my trail, and the droppings were at least two months old. During the three months that I stopped using my trail to the cliffs, the deer also stopped using my trail. I humbly realized that the deer had only walked my trail to be close to me, to commune soul-to-soul, and to share their love. When they returned day after day to my trail and I no longer came, they stopped using the trail.
When I hike, I feel the energy of the deer (or other animals), just as the deer feel my energy. This energy lingers in their tracks and passing. I get to absorb the energy into my own life force. It goes straight into me. Yet, on an old, unused deer trail the ‘Presence’ is still there but it is fainter, like an echo that fades with each reverberation. Just as I find myself feeling more alive on an active deer trail with fresh droppings, prints, and energy, so it is for my Deer Friends.
However, during my three-month absence the herd did not forget me, any more than I forgot them. The fourth day after my return to my daily hike straight up the mountain to the cliff, I noticed new deer tracks and fresh droppings on my trail. I was back and so was my beautiful Mule Deer Tribe. I was in heaven at the return of my Family.
They had picked up my ‘charge’, as well as smelled me, heard me, seen me, and most of all sensed me. And now, when I stopped to stand and commune with them, they lingered longer than ever, usually thirty minutes to an hour, or more. They had missed me, deeply. And I them. The ‘charge’ between us leaped to life, electric in each other’s presence. So great was this ‘charge’ that the love between us left me weeping. We stood on the mountain, side-by-side, the Deer and I, while the world crashed and roared far below us in the city. I looked down at the tiny band of highway, and thought, “How amazing, all those cars and trucks roaring by, and no one knows. There is a lone woman way up here on the mountain surrounded by Mule Deer. Her Tribe.
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“Little Deer” — this innocent, trusting soul was the most affable of all the deer. She was the one who most frequently appeared, especially if I was crying. She always found me, and loved to soothe and comfort as if it was her Soul's Purpose. She always stayed until I was calm. She just knew. As I sat on a rock, she would stand and stare at me just like in this photo. Through her loving eyes, I saw the Soul of God. ———————————
When I cried over such feelings, the Deer moved in close to me. They directly faced me and stared into my soul. Over and over, I drowned in their vastness, their breathless connection to the Cosmos. Countless times, I lost myself to the deer and remembered who I am. Repeatedly, I was left speechless when I felt their complete understanding of me. They not only understood me, but they let me know that they understood me. I sat in awe as I heard and felt their thoughts and feelings. Loving Communion was all that existed. I was very aware that many of the deer were my Wise Elders. They were showing me The Way.
Dozens upon dozens of times we stood so close, often only three to five feet apart. I could have touched them. I never did, nor did I feed them. I also never approached the deer, never moved forward into their space. I either ran into them on the mountain (and then I always stood still and calm), or they sought me out and approached me as I sat on a rock or wandered the hills. In this way, the deer knew they had total control over our meetings. I also only followed them, when they invited me by walking a few feet forward, stopping, looking back, waiting, then walking a bit more, again stopping, waiting, and so on. It is one of my most cherished experiences to be invited by the Wild Ones. And even then, I tread very cautiously, so as not to put asunder their Wildness, our Wildness.
It is not touch or food that binds us. It is deep, mutual understanding, and eternal love. They are Wild Souls and only come close because they know I will not touch them. I will not invade the Wild Sanctity they embody…and are. I can only enter their world by being wild myself. This I willfully do, and woe to the soul that desecrates my wildness…any Wildness.
Whenever I cried on the mountain, the Deer never startled, and they never left my side until I was calm. They stayed close, often craning their necks forward to exchange breath until we all were so merged that Deer and Robin and Mountain no longer existed, only Love. We drowned in love…together.
How could we humans ever think the Wild Ones do not know how to love. They are love, the deepest, purest love I have ever known.
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“The Does” — Soft snow muffles all sound as I stand alone on the mountain and watch the gentle does arrive, my female companions. We stood close together, high upon the mountain, in a secret winter-world of exquisite beauty. ———————————
I had many intimate meetings with my Deer Family, and I watched new generations come into the world, that also grew to know me, and I them. I witnessed their wounded, their sick, and their dying. With time, I understood the profundity of our relationship. I understood that I had been absorbed into The Tribe. I was not apart from them, just something or someone else passing at a distance on the mountain. No. I am part of them, just they are part of me, and each other. I doubt I have ever had a greater honor grace my life.
One day, I hope to return to the mountain to see my Deer Family. Sadly, the mountain changes; gates, locks, and fences keep us physically apart. The land is ‘developed,’ human houses encroach, and trespasser warnings are posted. However, nothing, and I mean NOTHING can keep our souls apart. The Deer will forever wander through my soul.
We must never underestimate the awareness, intelligence, compassion, and capacity for love in other species (or each other). To do so, tragically reveals our own inability to See, Feel, and Love. The Wild Ones are sentient beings. I still humbly learn the extent of this intelligence and ability to love. I understand the vastness of their connection to God.
When we move with deep respect and reverence, the Wild Ones recognize us as part of their world, and they innocently, trustingly adopt us into their Tribe. We must cherish, protect, and respect our wild, free Brethren. Without them, we are lost.
I could not write this story without tears. Recently an environmentalist-friend told me that the beautiful Mule Deer are silently being pulled into the dark night of extinction. Yes, I cry, and I pray for the safekeeping of my Deer Family.
All my love,
Robin
© Robin Easton – All Rights Reserved
-- EXCERPT FROM: Robin Easton's upcoming book, "Seeing the World With Wild Eyes."
See Post Script Below
“Little Spikey” — He was a loner. He didn’t roam with any bachelor group, which most young bucks do to better fend off predators and survive. Yet, Spikey, was always by himself. He often sought me out on the mountain, and stood very close to me, absorbing me into his soul, just as I did with him. Of all my Deer Family, Spikey was the most grateful for my companionship. This humble little Being ripped my heart wide open. I often saw grief in his eyes, and felt it in his soul. I wondered if he had been rejected by his own…for some reason. With my most compassionate voice, I gave him sweet love and tender empathy, until his eyelids drooped in drowsy softness. ———————————
NOTES:
Hike With Respect: I would never recommend that hikers go ‘off-trail’ as it causes damage to often vulnerable Eco-systems, as well as serious erosion. When it rains, with no plant life, no rocks, and deeply worn depressions, there is little to stop the flow of water. Rain often runs with uninterrupted momentum down these stripped, man-made pathways, creating deeper grooves and more erosion, as well as uneven water distribution. Some Eco-systems when trodden upon can take years, even decades to repair themselves. When going off-trail, there also is a greater risk to the hiker in terms of injury and becoming disoriented and lost.
I have done thousands of solo hikes in highly diverse terrain, and yet these days, here in the Southwest, I rarely go off-trail for the above reasons. I also hike barefoot, which causes far less damage to vulnerable earth. If we hike barefoot, trail damage is almost imperceptible, especially if we learn how to walk with conscious consideration. Many hiking boots and shoes might give safer traction, but they can aggressively tear up fragile soil and bio-networks. Mountain bikes, dirt bikes, and all-terrain vehicles have tires that are made to grip, these too tear up the land. It is always best to do this ‘land-tearing’ on already existing trails and in designated areas.
Barefoot Hiking Takes Time and Consciousness: I also would not recommend that someone start barefoot hiking without first toughening their feet, and doing so gradually, over months and years. One might go from walking on grass, then sand, then tiny pebbles, then gravel, and onward. I have been barefoot hiking for decades, and still, if I hike months on soft desert sand, my feet lose some of their toughness. Please, approach barefoot walking with awareness of rusty nails, wire, sharp metal, and glass. Nature is beautiful and even mystical, but there is no room in nature for reckless heroes. When I open my door and step outside, I remind myself to leave my reckless hero in the toilet. It will not serve me in the wild.
A Caution: My Deer Tribe knew me very well, and the males were never aggressive with me, no matter the season. However, it is important to keep in mind that although deer are very peaceful beings, during the rutting season (the mating season), the bucks can sometimes become more aggressive, irritable, and unpredictable. The ‘rut’ here in New Mexico usually starts in late November and lasts about three to four weeks.
With Gratitude: I no longer live on the mountain, as circumstances necessitated a move. However, after six years of wandering almost daily with my Mule Deer Tribe, through all weather conditions: silent snow, rare rain, whipping wind, huge hail, hammered heat, fecund fog, and blissful blue-sky, I have the deepest respect for these magnificent beings. I miss them more than most humans I know. Although we now are theoretically miles apart, I still feel the herd, and I feel them feeling me. The ‘charge’ between us might be invisible to most, but it remains forever strong.
Once a deep bond is formed with a Wild One, they never forget you, not even years later. Time, distance, and form do not exist in Soul-to-Soul communion.
Go with love and reverence, my friends.
Robin
© Robin Easton – All Rights Reserved
-- EXCERPT FROM: Robin Easton's upcoming book, "Seeing the World With Wild Eyes."