Going Rogue

I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive. -- Joseph Campbell

With all the recent rain in Austin, people, flora and fauna seem disoriented. For instance, after particularly heavy flooding a few weeks ago, I almost tripped over this grumpy old turtle sitting in the middle of the trail with a [expletive] look on his face:

 

 

A few days later I observed this young turtle, covered in algae, dashing [in a turtle way] toward a giant wall. He appeared to have a mission, as most turtles do, but his path was in the opposite direction of the lake.

Then shortly after that I saw this beautiful rose 

blooming on the opposite side of the fence from its siblings: 

If the rose and the turtles were human, other humans would automatically assume they were going the wrong way. They may have appeared out of place, but had they been where they were “supposed” to be, I may not have noticed them. 

Life is like that, so nature gives us insightful reminders that when we appear to be out of place we can actually revel in the splendor of our uniqueness.

Maybe we should "go rogue" once in a while and notice the life we are living.

My own inner compass has always guided me on a non-linear path. 

I want to go rogue so I can see where I am not supposed to be.

What say you?

Lost Objects, Found Souls

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.

― John Muir, John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir

Austin may not be the walking paradise that Mr. Muir usually traversed, but it does offer its oddities [“Keep Austin Weird”] for the curious, observant walker. 

I prefer to explore new territory, but time constraints often force me to the same neighborhood trail. No two sunsets are alike, and the same certainly holds true for the trail scenery, if I look for what is  “new” in the flowers and wildlife. 

For example, see the photos to the left with a very large fuzzy spider and a blooming cactus.

Finding the Unusual

Each walk also presents something unusual,which inspired this blog post.

We will begin with this photo taken on a spring walk:

As you look at the photo, what story can you create about it? 

Now, do the same for this found object:

Think about the story you created for these two photographs.  In the first story, is Teddy eagerly awaiting his new companion to come get him, or is he abandoned? Is the story funny or sad? What about the sandwich? Was it dropped, thrown at someone, rancid, or just left to feed someone [or the parking lot]? 

These objects not only beg for a story, but also tell us about our own stories. We filter what we see in the world through our own lens. Our soul, our inner self, is telling us a story if we pay attention and listen. To observe our story does not mean we judge it, or ourselves, as good or bad. It just tells us how we are looking at the world, and then we decide if we want to change the lens.

 

In this way, the objects we originally saw as lost may actually be the soul’s way of telling you how it can be found. 

Everywhere is within walking distance if you have the time. 

—Steven Wright