The Mandala Project: #7

This morning was one of the most magical moments of the project, and one of the most charming moments of my life.

And it almost didn’t happen.

The day before this day, a chronic back issue flared up. When this beast kicks in, I can’t stand, sit or bend without loud and painful resistance. Its full lockdown, and typically for at least a week.

The next morning, this morning, which also happened to be day 44 of 40 early mornings, the alarm went off at 6:30 and I could feel the back instability was worse, not better. I began re-evaluating the get up and get outside plan. Walking would be more like hobbling, and bending to pick up items for mandala making would definitely be off the table. Going back to sleep for a couple of hours to support healing seemed both wise and reasonable.

Raven and several small birds had a different point of view and were calling through the open window. “Get out here", they chattered in bird speak, “magic awaits.”

This was one of the first times I saw how 40 early mornings had changed things. I knew that an hour outside would be more healing than two more hours of sleep. Sleeping in vs. being awake and immersed in nature with the intimates I’d been coming to know—the birds and trees and squirrels; the wind and sky and earth; the varied rhythms and patterns of the inter-connected everything that had begun revealing themselves to me—yup. No question. My feet hit the floor.

Okay not exactly ‘hit’. Heels, arches and eventually toes arrived at the carpet via a slow-motion shifting of legs to the edge of the bed, followed by a jaw clenched transition to vertical.

But I was up!

Brushing my teeth on propped elbows, I remembered, “Apprentice to Discomfort”. Oh right. That.

Not long ago I’d decided to investigate my relationship with discomfort. Well, it actually started as a quest to apprentice to fear, but apparently it was evolving.

This led me to consider that my back pain and immobility was only a problem if I thought life should be, right now, the same as it was when my back was stable.

But if I could meet life as it actually was now, there was a possibility to see what its “being as it is” might have to offer.

Put Yourself in the Way of Magic

Armed with a hiking pole and my extendable-reacher-grabber-thingamajig designed specifically for acquiring that which is hard to reach, Lily-dog and I set off on the 50 foot trek to the edge of the cul-de-sac. As we settled down beside a stump just where the forest began, I noticed two deer below us rising in response to our arrival.

It quickly became evident that one of them was our new friend, the one we’d been running into on our morning wanders. And if there was any doubt before now, today he showed his hand. This guy had a huge crush on Lily, and this morning it was boldness and curiosity for the win.

I’ll let the video tell the tale.

If you want a snapshot of his charm, here’s a 50 second snippet from the middle:

And if you’d like to share in the wonder and delight that I experienced witnessing this wild being make his way carefully and curiously forward to hang with us for a bit (highly recommend)—here’s the real time (5 minute) version:

I had no idea he was going to come all the way up to us, and to come so close as many times as he did.

And here’s the real magic: this experience only happened because my back was injured.

If it hadn’t been, first of all we would have kept moving on when we saw the deer. Second, when he approached I would have stood up out of uncertainty about what he was going to do when he got close, and probably scared him away.

Because I couldn't move without a tremendous amount of effort, I had to feel into whether his energy seemed aggressive or not. I really couldn’t tell for sure, but as he came closer, it felt right to surrender to whatever was going to happen.

The extra effort required to move was an encouragement to stay and to trust, and in doing so I was gifted with the most intimate encounter I’ve had with a deer in 33 years of living in the mountains.

And Then - the Mandala Magic

Didn’t even have to try for this one.

After our friend carried on his way, I noticed that the stump to my right had an interesting radiating crack pattern and also happened to be scattered with an abundance of spruce cone chips left behind by a busy squirrel.

I began arranging them in a circular pattern mimicking the shape of the cut tree, and then picked up a fallen leaf from the ground beside and placed it in the centre.

Done.

Lesson(s) of the day:

1) Create with what is, not what you wish was.
2) Trust that everything you need is right here, within arms reach. No reacher-grabber-thingamabob’s required.

THE MANDALA PROJECT: Update

Cancel cancel…new plan.

When I started this project, I had the idea to post a new mandala every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I thought it would just be a quick photo with a couple of sentences, but it turns out there is more insight and adventure wanting to be shared than I realized.

It’s making sense to offer you—and the Mandalas—a bit more spaciousness.

So recalibrating—going forward I’ll post once per week, on Mondays.

Check back here to see the new ones, or subscribe below if you’d like to receive them directly.

< Mandalas 1, 2 and 3, and the story of how the project came to life

< Mandala #6

Mandala #8 >