The fox and the bear

Last week, I had an encounter with a fox and a bear while visiting friends in Snowmass. It was late, and I was standing outside alone when I noticed a bear crossing the parking lot. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a bear in the wild, and it took my breath away. The bear walked between the cars and out of sight. When I scooted over to see where it had gone, I realized there was the most beautiful fox standing two feet from me, also watching. The fox’s white, flowing tail was as long as its body. We stood there together - me now watching the fox, the fox watching for the bear. 

The encounter inspired an idea that I’m playing with based on Aesop’s Fables. I was so fired up about it, I was recording notes on my phone and spitting off ideas to my sister in the car. When I got home, the first thing that I did was sit at my computer for an hour documenting ideas, even after the long drive home. 

The next morning, the enthusiasm from the day before had evaporated. I was spiraling, stressing about work/life/money/“the journey”/etc. I spun myself into a tizzy. As the stress came on, I fell back into traditional ways of thinking - get a job, make money, do it NOW. I couldn’t focus and every task that morning felt difficult. 

I went for a walk to clear my head.

On my walk, I stopped by my favorite Little Free Library in the neighborhood. The library mirrors its Victorian counterpart, painted the same light green. A few years ago, the owners added a children’s library, child height and filled with children’s books. I never check that section, but that day I did. And what did I find? A 1963 Scholastic edition of Aesop’s Fables. With a fox on the cover and all.

It was definitely one of the more “bonk you on the head” synchronicities I’ve had. I stood frozen in front of the house with the book in my hand, blown away. I spent the rest of the walk home thinking about what it could mean. 

It reiterated to me that my energy is better spent on those things that come organically and with enthusiasm. And the things that feel like trudging through mud or that are anxiety inducing may be the wrong things. Trust my passion and my gut. Put my energy into those things that move me.

When I first embarked on this career transition, my friend Rian Gufarotti, founder of Soul Full Wellness, gave me some great advice. Trust your body, she said. Your body knows when something is off. Your body also knows when something is right. That feeling of trudging through mud? The wave of anxiety you feel? That’s your body telling you it’s not the right direction. The feeling of lightness and excitement paired with the flood of ideas? I think we’re on to something. 

The Artist’s Way takes that trust a step further. The book’s author Julia Cameron encourages readers to trust in the universe, in god, in the creative force, and lean into it. Watch for signs. Whether you believe in a higher power or not, I think there’s something to be said about trust. That annoying old adage - trust the process. Trust your body. Not just your gut, but also your head or the grip of your hands or the tension in your back – or the flow of enthusiasm or creativity that spills out of you. When I really thought about what had triggered all of that anxiety, I realized I had veered from my creative focus. My body said, hey, you’re off course. The universe said, hey, remember what that enthusiasm felt like. 

It started with a fox and a bear…