Wilderness Guide Immersion Prep: The Sit Spot
At the end of the month, I will be spending a week out in nature for a Wilderness Guide Immersion (a prerequisite for Rite of Passage Guide training) with some seasoned elders in this space.
This is something that I have been feeling called to for a long time, but never fully stepped into. I have always felt tribal elder / grandfather energy in me - even as a child - and this path feels like home to me. I am not here to lead in the traditional sense, and I am not here to be lead. I am here to commit fully to my own transformation. To feel it. To move through it. And to emerge from it, and let my life be the example of what's possible.
I am someone who has gone through many transformations, and I find great joy in walking alongside others as they go through their own.
As a practice leading up to this event, I have been instructed to get back in tune with nature for 21+ days leading up to it, at least for 15 minutes a day. For the first collection of posts, I will be sharing contemplations as they arise during these sits, and whatever questions come up will be posed to myself, but also to you, as readers and as curious explorers of the self and the world around us.
Sit Spot - Day 1.
In Florida, at my lovely partner's home.
I didn't go out there expecting much. In fact, I was initially very annoyed at the feeling of the grass on my feet - pokey, itchy, and painful in some parts. I kept walking and found a tree. Sat under it in the shade to avoid the heat. A cold wind brushing across my face every few minutes.
I told myself I'd just observe.
A large bird was hunting in the lake. I watched it catch a fish. Clean, efficient, focused. And then a smaller bird appeared from tree across from it and gave chase. The larger bird, fish in its grip, fled. And then dropped it. The fish was gone. The moment was gone. Everything continued.
I kept watching. More birds. More movement. More life doing what life does when you're finally quiet enough to witness it.
And then a question arrived, as one usually does when I am silent and present in the moment.
As I contemplate this path of returning to nature and to simplicity, I need to know, "Do I really want a simple life back in nature? It feels boring, for now, by myself. Will this vocation, this path, matter going forward as technology progresses and entertainment increases?
I sat with it. I didn't try to answer it.
But I noticed the irony sitting right there with me: I had gone out expecting nothing. Expecting boredom. And in only fifteen minutes I had witnessed a hunt, a chase, a loss, wind through leaves, the specific discomfort of barefoot grass, and glimpses of the space inside my mind where anything can be conjured up from nothing when it isn't being obscured by external noise.
I thought nothing would be happening out there. And then I paid attention. And there was everything happening out there.
I don't have an answer to that question yet. But it feels like I'll discover it sooner, rather than later.
~ Marc, The Sage
This is something that I have been feeling called to for a long time, but never fully stepped into. I have always felt tribal elder / grandfather energy in me - even as a child - and this path feels like home to me. I am not here to lead in the traditional sense, and I am not here to be lead. I am here to commit fully to my own transformation. To feel it. To move through it. And to emerge from it, and let my life be the example of what's possible.
I am someone who has gone through many transformations, and I find great joy in walking alongside others as they go through their own.
As a practice leading up to this event, I have been instructed to get back in tune with nature for 21+ days leading up to it, at least for 15 minutes a day. For the first collection of posts, I will be sharing contemplations as they arise during these sits, and whatever questions come up will be posed to myself, but also to you, as readers and as curious explorers of the self and the world around us.
Sit Spot - Day 1.
In Florida, at my lovely partner's home.
I didn't go out there expecting much. In fact, I was initially very annoyed at the feeling of the grass on my feet - pokey, itchy, and painful in some parts. I kept walking and found a tree. Sat under it in the shade to avoid the heat. A cold wind brushing across my face every few minutes.
I told myself I'd just observe.
A large bird was hunting in the lake. I watched it catch a fish. Clean, efficient, focused. And then a smaller bird appeared from tree across from it and gave chase. The larger bird, fish in its grip, fled. And then dropped it. The fish was gone. The moment was gone. Everything continued.
I kept watching. More birds. More movement. More life doing what life does when you're finally quiet enough to witness it.
And then a question arrived, as one usually does when I am silent and present in the moment.
As I contemplate this path of returning to nature and to simplicity, I need to know, "Do I really want a simple life back in nature? It feels boring, for now, by myself. Will this vocation, this path, matter going forward as technology progresses and entertainment increases?
I sat with it. I didn't try to answer it.
But I noticed the irony sitting right there with me: I had gone out expecting nothing. Expecting boredom. And in only fifteen minutes I had witnessed a hunt, a chase, a loss, wind through leaves, the specific discomfort of barefoot grass, and glimpses of the space inside my mind where anything can be conjured up from nothing when it isn't being obscured by external noise.
I thought nothing would be happening out there. And then I paid attention. And there was everything happening out there.
I don't have an answer to that question yet. But it feels like I'll discover it sooner, rather than later.
~ Marc, The Sage
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