These Kind of Dhamma Dudes Could Illuminate the Mossy Alder Tree Wood

I saw the most fear I had ever seen during my first time in the woods which I had decided to do on my own for two weeks in the wilderness of Olympic National Forest happened when I walked back to camp in the complete blanket of darkness of the forest at night.

And I was not alone that night.

Prior to and at the beginning of this retreat in the woods, I had one fear that visited the mind from time to time, bears. A large vicious animal that might visit me in the dark of the night and see my tent as a meat filled burrito.

Bear spray at every REI in Olympic? Sold out. It did not help that the first night had to be spent at a completely random spot off a main road because the path to my campsite had turned into a dead end.

Everything about every horror movie I had ever seen about making a wrong turn flooded to my gut when I realized we would have to set up camp at an adjacent patch of land surrounded by the woods off the road leading to that dead end.

It is hilarious now to recall the fantasies I had dreamt up about what could be out there in the dark of the woods. What might be behind the sheet of trees that surrounded us as night fell and all visibility was lost. “Us”, being my friend from the Sangha, Erik who had so generously offered to take me all the way from the Seattle, WA airport to my campsite in Olympic.

I Skype called my other friend in the Dhamma, Dhammarato and expressed my concerns. He reminded me once again, that I would be better off actually listening to what was going on in the woods, rather than coming up with fantasies about what might be happening in the woods.

I took this advice and instead of listening followed by talking myself into being afraid of what may or may not be out in the woods, I did what he said our ancestors did when they lived in the wilderness. I just listened.

I went from: “oh no there might be bears out there” *hearing leaves crunching in the woods* – “oh no, is that a bear approaching?!”

To: *listening* *hearing leaves crunching in the woods* *listening some more* hearing more crunching of leaves* *listening some more again* *crunching stops* *deep sigh of relief*

And boy was I glad to have learned to listen instead of becoming afraid because the next day when we found my camp spot, I would truly be all on my own so I had better been able to handle at least the first night with my friend Erik present. Using my senses instead of talking myself into fear was a much welcomed skill.

Erik was truly skilled in all things outdoors and seemingly fearless, which he demonstrated time and time again. He and Dhammarato even assured me that all of the noise I had heard in the woods came from small animals, or things falling, etc. If it were a large animal, we would KNOW for sure that it was a large animal. It could not be mistaken.

The following day I did find my campsite and I did manage to successfully spend the night in the woods all on my own. Waking up feeling victorious to have made it through the night without the same fear I had the night prior. What an absolute success. I sat outside of my tent, relaxing, and all of a sudden I hear some more crunching of leaves. “Listen” I thought, “keep listening” I continued to think. And unlike the night before, the crunching did not stop…the crunching actually got louder, eventually it was clear, just as Erik had pointing out the night before, these thuds were NOT the thuds of a small animal….and from behind the bushes it emerged!….ERIK! This time holding a tarp in one arm and blanket in the other.

I was elated and shouted with great enthusiastic joy both for seeing my friend and being relieved that it was a human that emerged from those bushes. I told him that I knew it was no small animal approaching, but I absolutely was not expecting him to come back. His return was a gift well received! Although I felt victorious for having successfully done one night on my own, I felt a great deal of relief that my friend in the Dhamma would at lease remain nearby.
Erik and I would go on to spend the next two weeks together exploring and investigating our own minds and the woods.

Erik had recommended we go for exploring more of the nearby trails and I agreed. All was well as we trekked through the beautiful forest, joyfully discussing the dhamma, thinking about the dhamma, breathing well, and taking brief breaks to sit and ensure the mind was fit for work.

Eventually we started to gain some elevation. This was my first time ever in any kind of forest, I was totally new to this. The path opens up and we look around to find that the path we are on continues as a very narrow, two foot wide cliff. We were basically on the side of a mountain looking at a long drop down into a river. This time, a kind of fear I did not even know I had came over me and rushed to my gut. I managed to make it a little further crouching and hugging the wall. Pleading out of fear that we turn around, this was too much. All of the strength in my legs were gone. Erik, fearless as ever, encouraged me to continue on, and assured me that I could do this.

I did not think it was possible but the path got even more sketchy as we approached a point in the mountain that required you to actually grab a rope and scale yourself up another 10 – 15 yards. At that point I became adamant about turning back. Erik however, pulled himself up and scaled the mountain a bit just to check it out but we eventually turned back around and headed back to camp.

I was introduced to another kind of fear I did not even know I had, but by becoming aware of that fear, that was already half the battle. I called Dhammarato to report the news and he shared with me that the Buddha was reffered to as a “Lion” and a “Bull” (elephant). That actually, one of Dhammarato’s teachers and the most famous of monks in Thailand, Bikkhu Buddhadasa was known to be a lion as well. Tough dudes who weren’t afraid of nothing.

We came up with a game plan for how I would conquer this mountain myself as a lion. That I could begin to practice my balance. That if I were able to practice balancing on trees and downed logs that were elevated off the ground, I could simulate and visualize successfully walking along the cliff edge of the mountain. And as I developed confidence in being able to walk the log forward, I would try it backwards, then I would close my eyes, then I would go backwards and close my eyes, then I would run on the log, then dance along the log, etc. Erik even put together a jungle gym for me that I could play on and that took me to balancing higher up over the ground. Just as Dhammarato pointed out with regard to listening vs being afraid, I had to learn to balance as opposed to being afraid. That when a big gust of wind hits the tight rope walker who is trying to walk between two skyscrapers, the tight rope walker can decide to either be afraid, or to attend to his balance. The decision he makes will determine if he survives or not. Choose balance over fear. Choose being a winner over being a victim.

A few days after waltzing on every log I could find in the woods, we made our way back to the foot of the mountain. Erik and I had gotten into the habit of letting a loud yell whenever we were feeling on top of the world, announcing it to the entire forest. We sat for about 10 minutes, got the mind fit for work and did exactly that. “Woooooooo” I was ready for battle.
I made my way up the mountain, no problem. When we got to the thin cliff area, I just balanced my way along the entire cliff. I came to the rope that I had previously declined to scale, and scaled up the mountain, and pulled my way up without any hesitation. The rest of the hike was a piece of cake and there were no issues making our way back down. What an absolute success. The feeling was that of being on top of the world.

However, I would soon discovering another great fear. The incident I mentioned in the beginning that was truly one of the most fearful experinces of my life. Erik and I had made a breif trip to the nearby town to pick up groceries but after having a Sangha call in the car we did not make it back until after dark.
However, this dark was different from any other kind of dark I had ever experienced. Growing up in a city and spending no time at all in the wilderness in my life, I had never experinced opening my eyes and not being able to discern the difference from having them closed.

The feeling standing in what I knew to be a large open space that was the parking lot at the beginning of the trail surrounded by forest and truly not being able to see anything at all was incredibly confusing to the senses. Even though the ground was flat, I felt as though it was hard to balance and it brought an uneasy feeling to my stomach. No way I thought, no way I could do a 20 minute hike through the forest without being able to see. I hopped back in the car and said I need a minute.

I knew we had to make this hike back. We had one headlamp that unbenounced to us, was incredibly low on battery. It was interesting how the light actually only illuminated the next step or two.

As you could guess, I called Dhammarato to explain the dillema. He shared stories of having done a similar thing but for probably a longer distance and if I recall correctly, only using candlelight. His advice was that if you don’t know where you are going, just stop and stand. You are not lost if you are not moving anywhere. He also repeated the same advice as before to just use your senses instead of becoming afraid. Listen to what is going on around you. He let us know that our eyes would eventually adjust. That this was just another skill to be developed. This objective sensory way of looking at the situaiton certainly did help reduce some of the fear. It also helped that Erik was there to sing some wholesome songs as we walked
As you could imagine, everything turned out just fine. And just like with the mountain, we had a new toy to play with. Darkness and the fear of the unknown. Erik had the idea, why not start standing outside the tent at night. We did just that and progressed to moving away from the tent to the path at night and just standing there in the dark. Letting the eyes adjust. It was around this time we started to hear Elk begin to pass though our area and we would wait up late to see if we might have an encounter.

We progressed to actually walking in the forest and leaving the headlights behind to see how far we could make it along the path without light.

Erik would take it a bit farther and go out even further on his own into the night without light, checking out the areas we thought there might have been Elk.

Another success in befriending what used to be a great fear, turning it into a new curious toy to play with.

The final hurdle I had encountered were horse flies. Although there weren’t too many mosquitos, the incessant buzzing by my ears and crawling on my hands really did not sit well with me when I was trying to meditate by my tent. For a third time I reached out to Dhammarato again. This time we spoke of the doppler effect. A real physical law that the flys were teaching me about everytime they buzzed by my ears. The flys were merely showing me the the truth about reality, in effect they were teaching me the dhamma. Instead of being annoyed that the flies were disrupting my meditation, instead of being agitated by the sensations of them landing and crawling on me, I switched my focus to their sounds and decided to percieve their sounds as merely information about the world we live in. Just another thing. Just more dhamma. No problems here. And boy did it feel good to just relax and not be annoyed and agitated by my new fly friends. Dhammarato frequently references the wisdom of the 12 step program. First and foremost the value of associating with like minded individuals, and secondly the serenity prayer, accepting the things we cannot change. Those flys were something I did not have much choice in changing, and beyond just accepting them, I went for getting comfortable and even enjoying their little song and dance. The thing that I could change was my own attitude.

As I had gotten over a lot of the anxieties and fears of being in the forest, I switched my attention to getting comfortable in the forest. Making it my home and really starting to feel at home. Erik spoke of a time where he ventured a Mexican rainforest. The people in the nearby village spoke of many dangers that could be there, tigers, snakes, poisonous insects etc. But Erik wanted to do his own investigation. And when he did his own investigation. He spoke of becoming so comfortable in the forest, feeling so safe, so secure, that he had no other inclination other than to just lie on the ground because he felt so at home and eventually slept there.

I did not quite end up lying in the forest we were in but I did progressively get more and more comfortable in the woods. I recall that eventually I would come across a tree stump or log and just sit there and relax and the feeling of being really whelmed came over me, whelmed, as in safe and secure, and cozy right in the forest sitting palms resting on the log. For that moment I truly felt at home.

The lessons I had learned in summation was instead of being afraid, listen, instead of being afraid, balance, instead of being annoyed, feel, instead of getting lost, stop. The practice is really always the same, come out of your confirmation bias that the world is a dangerous and scary place and come into reality. Reality is that everything is fine right now, everything is alright. This is a skill to be developed. Keep practicing over and over again coming into this pleasant moment. As we gain the skill of coming out of our crap, and into how wonderful things are, over and over, we begin to spend more and more mind moments feeling the way we want to feel. When you are in control of your feelings you are in control of your life and you can make it a wonderful one.

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