bear breath

{Image: Joey Bates}

Of necessity, at most times, our lives revolve around a small number of people, a small knot of concerns, the same streets or routes, all outlined by our particular emotional structures and reads. Even the well-traveled experimental sort falls into patterns in order to survive. But the breaks from these well trodden paths in the brain are blessedly welcome, however they come. I taught a whole symposium-style class one time called "Wanderlust" that explored this idea through art and literature about travel. We read books that encompassed actual physical travel, but also those that invited traveler-like thoughts about and approaches toward usual surroundings. And we looked at art-- especially performance-- that did the same thing. These breaks in the norm can and should be sought out, we decided, especially as students challenged their own comfort zones within the city where we found ourselves. One student who was afraid of guns went to a shooting range, another who had no specific religious practice was enfolded in a predominantly black Baptist congregation for a whole Sunday of worship and feasting (he thought it might take an hour or two but was swept up into the hospitality). A student who identified as Christian was warmly welcomed by a small group at the local synagogue, while another, who had very little exposure to gay culture, went with great trepidation to a drag show. The class that followed that assignment was electric with good stories and lively discussion. (...a future post is stewing on my increasing desire for cross-pollination and the ability to stretch toward other world-views without forsaking your own...)

So there's something to be said for making the decision to break your pattern consciously, but it's another thing to be broadsided by a mood or thought that creates a surprising bubble of freshness and sets you to gasping and blinking. A weird recent one for me happened when I was lying down to sleep a few nights ago, and it was so simple. As I was getting ready to drift off, the thought floated toward me that there were animals outside doing the same thing-- tucking in, bedding down. And it wasn't a children's book version, but it really struck me, especially being in the Northwest US, that there were wild bears with big warm skulls covered in musky fur curled up in the mountains getting some shut-eye. I could almost smell their gamy breath. This is another one of those duh thoughts that you know as a fact but that sweeps past you unexpectedly, becoming more real and weird in its reality than it normally is. I freakin love when that happens.