The Flavor of Wildness
It is late August and the cool crisp air feels like seasons beginning to change, especially where we are hiking at high elevation in the Newberry Caldera. The trail steeply climbs to the summit of Little Crater meandering through a forest of mountain hemlock, fir, and pine. The understory is sparse but for a few large patches of grouse whortleberry, sometimes called littleleaf huckleberry. We scan the little bushes for any signs of fruit, assuming it is too late for such a find. Surprisingly, a few tasty berries remain and we savor the flavor of wildness in our mouths.
Wildness has a distinctive taste as well as smell, touch, sight, and sound. We not only interact with the natural environment through our senses, we are also composed of those elements. Earth, water, fire, wind, and space: these are the sources of our corporeal body as well as the echo of our wisdom. The way in which nature arranges herself to maintain harmony and balance mirrors all our internal biological processes as well as the understanding of our place in maintaining that harmony. In other words, there is no outer environment separate from our inner design; they are the same.
When we settle the mind, unplugging from habitual self-absorbed thoughts, we reconnect with this wisdom and discover the echo of natural ways within our own essential nature. We feel a sense of interconnection, a feeling of loving kinship. Exploring this organic visceral connection with wildness is like reading the sacred book of the heart—a compassionate revelation.
The action of compassion is the harmonious gesture of natural elements mingling in our own expression of life. It is our responsibility to cooperate with this gesture by being of benefit to others. We must touch the earth, feel her in our bones, and recognize her as a call to love all beings. When Buddha woke up from the slumber of his delusions he touched the earth and she witnessed his awakening. She invites all of us to wake up.
Right now, I sit on the front porch of my home. I feel a gentle wind caress my skin and I meditate on the moving leaves of a Japanese maple. The flavor of wildness consumes me, at least, for a moment.
Breeze mingles with breath
Touching a long hidden place
Leaves dance in my mind