Hoo goes there?

Life can throw unexpected punches, and just as we experienced this morning, with the tornado warning mother nature does as well.

This year I have experienced many challenges. I have risen to meet lots of them, but I’ve also tripped and fallen. With each of my triumphs and failures, this semester I have attempted to lean on nature. I have found solace in it when I am down and humidity in it when riding a high.

In previous blogs, I’ve spoken about moments of finding inverted perspectives in trees or the positive impact that a morning trudge you can have on your day. In this blog, I want to talk about a place that I have revisited time, and time again this semester.

On a day when life had been swinging with some knockout punches, I knew that I had to move my body in order to get through. I started walking and because of the dark, I decided that I should put myself in the nicer neighborhoods surrounding TCU.

As I walked, my thoughts began to shift, but just as quickly as some thoughts, left more thoughts of uncertainty and heartache, found their way into my mind.

I soon came upon an outcropping of grass; on it were three trees and a bench. Seeing this, I felt called to sit and let my mind wander. My emotions began to turn, and tears roll down my cheeks.

I closed my eyes and began to meditate, repeating my favorite Gatha mantra in my head, “ I know I am breathing in, I know that I’m breathing out. I calm my body and mind, I smile. I dwell in the present moment, I know each moment is precious.”

Slowly, my breathing became less erratic, and the tears dried up on my cheeks. I continued to repeat this in my head, breathing in and out with each phrase.

After only a few minutes, my attention was dragged away from my meditation when I heard the hooting of an owl. It may have been my imagination or my spent emotions, but it felt as though the owl was meditating with me, her hoots matching my breath.

I refocused and meditated for a few more moments, but then my excitement and curiosity got the best of me and I open my eyes to see if I could locate my new companion.

I was surprised to quickly see the form of a barn owl in the tree to my left.

I smiled, which juxtaposed the tears that found their way back to my eyes. Being up close to nature sometimes does that to me; I’m happy to be there, but that happiness mingles with being overwhelmed with the privilege of what I am getting to witness.

Staying as still, as I could, I found my phone and raised it to take a picture. I will admit that my nighttime photography is not National Geographic level, but even now looking at this photo fills my heart.

As I sat there for longer and she continued to look down and hoot at me, I built the confidence to slowly move and sit under her tree. Eventually, after 15 minutes or so, she flew away. I remained sitting there, though, thinking and reflecting on the moment that I just experienced, and fellowship with the owl made the pain of losing a friend just a little bit less.

On this day, mother nature was not delivering a blow, she was delivering a gift. A reminder that I’m not incapable of finding a friend and a reminder that it’s not your responsibility to hold your companions too tightly, it’s natural to let them fly away when the time is right.

I’ve made my way back to that spot many times throughout the semester, some nights, sitting there alone, but others being greeted by the hoots of my feathered friend.

Looking back on it now this truly was a moment of finding wilderness in the midst of the urban landscape, and I hope that Eisley would be content with my appreciation of it.

I have found a confidante who listens to my rants and hoots back at me in response. My companion reminds me to stay unpretentious and curious, while also keeping a healthy distance from those you’re unsure of. I feel lucky to have made a friend who forces me to explore a different perspective.