I’m writing this post from the field, while hunting.
“Hunting” defined by Merriam-Webster as “the activity of searching for something” is the second definition of this noun, and it’s the definition that’s now pushing me out the door long before daylight.
But the first definition of “Hunting” is “the act of one who hunts, specifically: the pursuit of game.”
Initially, I was in hot pursuit of a white tailed deer with enough horns to be legal and shoot it. “Hot pursuit,” however, turns out to be sitting as still as possible in sub-freezing temperature without dying of hypothermia or boredom.
Discouraged after three days of not even seeing signs of deer in the woods where I was, I returned home hungry, tired and exhilarated.
Hunting, Curiosity & Discovery
That day, I allowed curiosity to uproot me from my seat. I hiked uphill, down ravines, through dense hemlock and into oak clearings. I didn’t see any deer. Not surprising, as they would have heard me from far off as I crunched through the leaf litter of brittle oak and dry beech leaves thick on the ground.
But I also didn’t get lost, which was one of the first reasons I took up this pursuit of game: to learn how to read the forested landscape, to find my way without paint blazed on a tree, without a path.
I explained this all to Tim as we sat by the fire drinking Scotch.
“Hunting,” he said, “is not the same as killing.”
It’s the process. Duh.
Demon Voices
And this makes all the difference. When I go out “to get a deer,” it becomes a day of frustration, and my mood can go south from there. I can wonder why in the world I’ve picked yet another solitary pursuit where, if I’m not vigilant, Self-Doubt can wreak havoc on my psyche, telling me all sorts of things I’ve heard this voice say before: I’m not good enough. I don’t know enough. I’ll never know enough. I’ll never succeed.
This demon voice has spoken on bad days at my desk, located in a lovely little studio off in the woods where I sit by myself. On good days, I capture the voice that tells a good story, and I write it down. On bad days, that demon voice shouts. If I listen to it, my fingers halt on the keyboard.
Hunting, Hiking & Meditation
Over the years, I’ve learned the best way to turn that voice off is to take the dog for a walk. More recently, I’ve started a meditation practice, silencing the demon voice with the stillness of the present tense.
It turns out, these two methods also work in the woods when I alternate between despair and anxiety: despair of ever seeing a deer; anxiety about how I’ll ever get a deer I’ve shot and gutted out of the woods by myself.
Finding My Way
This morning, I walked to my seat and I meditated. It’s a sparkling November morning. Maybe I’ll see a deer. Certainly sitting here improves my chances of shooting a buck, filling my freezer with organic, local meat.
But even if that doesn’t happen, I’m learning how to find my way in the woods, and how to find my way through thicket and bramble – which turns out to be very similar to clearing my way through my demon’s static -allowing me to hear the stories I want to tell loud and clear.
You certainly look the part! Thought of you as a deer ran across the road in front of my car last evening! Good luck … hunting or hunting!
Nancy
Bob and Jed are at deer camp, having seen no deer yet either. But, hunting is important and must be done. Wishing good luck to all you persistent hunters.
This photo is a serious contender for the cover of Field & Stream.
Good luck, Deb!!
John
I think you would love catch-and-release fly fishing for all the same reasons. AND, you don’t have to drag anything out of the woods.
Hey, Tony – Great to hear from you! And yes, I worry about how I’m going to drag a deer out of the woods – and still, I hope I get the chance! Fly fishing is on my list, too, as much for the entomology as for an excuse to be outdoors by water. All best, Deb.
Bob fly fishes but hasn’t done as much lately. He always does catch and release.