good graces

I was talking with Gavin Monday afternoon about mountain lions, what is implied as a proximity to and with them on lots of the walks I walk. Hikes I hike. Somehow it came up again in the Zen Koan group out of Oakland I zoom every Tuesday. ‘The fire that burns everything — it doesn’t survive, it survives, we get to spend time with the “it.” The “it” amidst the burning. The end of things.’

I shared I’ve been walking on trails which display signs with this relevant information – “Mountain Lion Habitat.” And this advice – “Don’t hike alone.” I wouldn’t walk on them at first and now I do. Hiking through the Johnson Ranch Trail yesterday after work there was the small feeling of being looked at once in a while. Watched. Fortunately there were cows scattered everywhere back at the beginning (and end) and I got to spend close proximity with a few and nobody was eating anybody, though that may be their fate down the path, and that kind of swings me around to what I was talking to Gavin about Monday about Native Americans and the deep honor offered and not separate from eating and wearing the buffalo — we thank you for this gift –

and I was having some goofy and maybe a smidge romantic feelings about being eaten by a mountain lion and I wanted Gavin – and you – to know I’d be scared out of my mind — again, it encourages me in the direction to really be the fire that burns everything and begin to identify with what it must be like to be eaten – and anyway, here in ’25 on the Central Coast I’m pretty sure there’d be worse ways to go. Other than as a gift.

The mountain lions were my favorite animals at/in the San Diego Zoo – along with the giraffes. Just saying.