Moose Meditation and Other Lessons From Awake in the Wild 2023

Nature helps us find the way out of the prison of our mind.

~ Eckhart Tolle

The moose didn’t notice me sitting on the glacial boulder just about 20 yards away. This was understandable, since my clothes and daypack blended in with the mountain forest and I hadn’t moved much in close to an hour.

I watched her feeding (assuming her since I didn’t see antlers), stripping leaves off shrubs and young aspen trees the same way I strip leaves off thyme stalks when I’m cooking. It must take time to master the delicate removal of foliage without destroying the branches with your huge teeth and powerful jaws.

How many tiny leaves does it take to feed a moose? I met the thought with Not now, and let it go.

Musty moose fragrance intermingled with the air passing through my nostrils as I inhaled. Awe and wonder infused my exhale. Instead of my breath, the moose was my anchor point. The ragged dark brown fur, the Bullwinkle snout, the funny “bell” (officially called a dewlap) hanging under the jaw, the sound of breathing through enormous lungs, the crackle of the shrubs as she fed.

It was our final day of nature-based mindfulness practice at Mark Coleman’s 2023 Awake in the Wild weeklong silent retreat. By now I was an experienced moose meditation practitioner, having had a sighting every day except for one (including a mama and baby pair twice that week).

Distractions

Distraction is always part of a meditation session, no matter how long you’ve been practicing. Instead of a to-do list pulling my attention away from the moose, it was a flash of movement near my daypack about a foot away from me. Maintaining mindful attention, I shifted my line of sight and discovered a chipmunk staring at me from on top of my pack. It wasn’t until I Googled how to properly spell Bullwinkle just now that I remembered he had a squirrel sidekick named Rocky. The Universe has a great sense of humor!

I said hello – though I don’t know if this was in my head or actually came out of my mouth. After this brief acknowledgement and a silent apology to the chipmunk for my rudeness, I returned my attention to the moose.

Later that afternoon, when I was watching a different moose feeding by a stream, a hummingbird perched on a branch right in front of me. How does one choose where to place attention when flooded with so many awe opportunities?

No Photographs

One of the many aspects of silent retreats that I look forward to each year is putting away all of my devices for a week. No phone, no computer, and no camera. I was happy that I could fully experience the moose encounters without the distraction of “capturing” it on a camera. 

Once the retreat was over, I had a little bit of time with my camera before my husband picked me up. My moose friends did not make an appearance, which made their earlier visits even more special.

Other Teachers

Along with the moose, other powerful teachers were rain (most days), thunder, lightening, hail, wind, and sun. Having conquered my external weather fears at last year’s retreat, and with the progress I’ve made in navigating my internal weather patterns more skillfully, I was able to welcome everything Mother Nature threw our way with joy, delight, and gratitude.

One big ah ha moment came when I realized that thunder can’t hurt us. Once we hear the thunder, the lightening that sparked it is already past. BOOM!

Special thanks to Mark Coleman (on my left in the photo) and Pascal Auclair for holding the space and guiding us so beautifully over the course of the week. What a privilege to have the opportunity to know and learn from these two amazing teachers. My heart is full.