Sometimes
life hands us lessons in unattractive and painful packages, but all of them, if
opened and inspected thoroughly, provide us with wisdom and understanding.
A few
months ago I had a quarrel with a dear friend over something so petty (at the
time it seemed to emphasize our inescapable differences) that it tore us apart
by the sheer will of my own ego. I will share how absurd that disagreement was
because, again, it emphasizes the absurdity of the human need to be right.
My
friend, Chris Thayer, whom I have written about many times, and I,
had a shouting match about the fecundity of perch eggs based on the size and
age class of the females. Both of us were yelling at each other and the other
guys must have thought us insane to be so heated over this topic. It was about
being right, and we seemed to always disagree on everything we believed. The
argument blew up into a full-scale “I never want to talk to you again” war of
words. Forget that this guy had been there for me through thick and thin, a
member of our deer camp, my hunting and
A few
weeks ago, my painful lesson was delivered to me by a mutual friend. Chris’ 26
year old son, Andrew, had been in a terrible accident, and was fighting for his
life. Suddenly, my ego came into sharp focus for what it is; a character defect
that had to be faced for what it had done – tear apart the heart of one of the
people I have loved as a friend more than almost anyone I have known. My grief
for him was palpable. I had to make right what I had done.
The day
I learned of the accident, I was stunned. Three days later Andrew passed.
That
night I came home from work late. There was a full moon, and as I stepped out
of my truck, I looked up and cried uncontrollably. I begged Grandmother Moon to
forgive me. I begged for Chris to forgive me. I begged to forgive myself.
For me,
my connection to nature and our universe has been all that I have been able to
count on for healing and enlightenment. Call it God, Buddha, Christ, Allah, The
Great Spirit or a Non-Deity, the power that created all of this was all that I
felt I could count on to comprehend, not just the loss of my friend’s son’s
life, but of my own spiritual dignity.
This
past Saturday, I led a migration watch at Dead Creek in Addison and was blessed
by the sight of 800 snow geese that sat patiently in a field, feeding.
We all
watched in rapt attention and wondered about the miles and miles of flight that
these birds had endured, living and feeding, sleeping and flying, together, as
if they were one spirit. When one of my participants said “Let’s go get a cup
of coffee”, the birds lifted off and flew right over us. There was a brief
moment where two birds, flying in perfect unison, presented themselves, white
wings glowing in the sunlight, black wingtips nearly touching. I thought “what
a wonderful relationship those two have.” My very next thought was of my
friend, and a cold teardrop rolled down my cheek. The healing had begun.
I pray
for peace and serenity for my friend and his family. I pray that Andrew’s life
will serve me and others the lesson; that the value of life is so much greater
than one’s political or religious beliefs. And that we might all think before
we speak poorly about anyone. I pray that my relationship with Chris can be
healed and we can grow closer by sharing his loss. I pray that, one day, we can
once again be united in a spirit and friendship that was born of a love for the
outdoors.
