… (A)cceptance is the
answer to all my problems today…
The Big Book
My wife and I were out for a drive
not too long ago. We were on our way to Sheridan, driving down along the
highway approaching Alder. I was keeping an eye on the road, watching for deer,
moose, elk, badgers, skunks, and other assorted road-hazards when the one thing
I was NOT watching for swooped into view.
Approaching our little tin-can on
wheels was the largest eagle I have ever seen. Eagles are magnificent birds,
but since I am normally a hundred yards or more distant when I see them, this
one caught me quite off guard. I was shocked by the sheer size of the bird. I
am sure it was the raptor that rescued Gandalf from Saruman’s awful tower in
Middle Earth, but if not, it sure could have been a close relative (referring
to the eagle, and not to the wizard).
I think the poor creature was also
taken aback to find us in his (or her) glide path; I suspect it was en route to
pluck a fish out of Alder Creek, or maybe a marmot along the bank. As it
approached the side of our car, it recognized the error of its ways and
immediately banked right, like an F-16 avoiding a Russian MIG (and lord knows
it was rushin’).
Unfortunately, it was going so
fast and was upon us so quickly, tragedy was imminent.
That’s when the poor bird did
everything she needed to do for survival. The incident took on one of those
slow-motion effects one sees in movies when life is happening too fast for the
naked eye to keep up. My mouth opened up to shout some “oh, shoot” sort of expletive,
as my wife balled up into a fetal position and made herself as close to her
birth-size as possible. There was a shriek to be heard, too, but whether it was
the eagle, wife, or me was too hard to tell with any precision.
As all of this was going on, the
eagle continued her turn and made an effort to ascend. She flapped her great
wings with power and purpose, and then … then the miracle happened!
She lightened her load explosively,
which enabled her to streak skyward. She left her payload sprayed across the
front and top of our car, but the mother of all collisions was avoided.
Simultaneously, our poor little Suzuki
(which is a beautiful shade of black) took on the appearance of a skunk rolling
along the highway atop a skateboard!
The good news, of course: we
survived an accident that never happened due to the eagle’s quick thinking (and
the fact birds lack a control mechanism in areas not spoken of in polite
company).
In any case, time returned to its
normal pace and we finished our journey, returning home none the worse for wear
(after giving our car a run through the local carwash).
I am truly grateful that neither
bird nor humans were injured or killed there along the Alder Gulch. I am also
grateful I was able to see the magnificent grace of an American Bald Eagle up
close and personal. I probably could have done without it costuming the car early
for Halloween, but better to have it splashed on that than m’love and me, eh?
I learned a long time ago that it
is quite helpful to “let go and let God” (as the old cliché puts it). If the
bird hadn’t “let go” – there’s a chance God would have entered the picture for
one or more of us sooner, rather than later. I’m looking forward to the trip
through the pearly gates, but I’m not in THAT big a hurry, I must confess.
Sometimes we think of letting go
as something of a sacrifice – of giving up things we like and appreciate. But
sometimes it is the other stuff, the stinky stuff we have to be willing to give
up, and in doing so, come to find our lives are better for it. I’m thinking of
things like resentments, frustrations, or events from our past.
Giving those things up could be really
good for us – our health and vitality, and dumping that stuff might just allow
us to soar higher in this, our valley.
