by Denise Coles
There have been times when in practicing contemplation or meditation in the city – I have had awakenings.
When I slow my step, or sit down for a “breather” inevitably something interesting happens.
One of my favorite places for such occurrences is Van Dusen Gardens.
The usual route I take when I enter its gates is a left at the herb garden, a pass by the roses, a jog to the left at a large laburnum and a right up a corridor of rhododendrons.
Within a few short minutes I enter the meditation garden. Its round in dimension with tall evergreens in its centre. The trees are encircled by wooden and stone benches so one can sit and gaze up at the splendour.
Once in the spring, when the daffodils were up and bright green shoots were just appearing– I made my way to the meditation space.
The cool nip in the air and the fresh musk of turned soil met my senses. The drone of the cars slipped into the background.
I found my place on a wooden bench and closed my eyes and breathed in the energy of the small forest.
I settled in - to my familiar place – the ebb and flow of my own breathing
Several minutes must have past, as well as several loud gusts of wind swirling through the trees when I felt a shiver at the base of my neck – from the wind, or perhaps something else?
My eyes flew open, my breath stopped, and I looked.
There, sitting, and watching me quizzically from a dirt perch just a foot above me was what I first thought was a very mangy dog – but no…… wild-eyed coyote!
He was panting and when my eyes met his, his mouth clapped shut and his nostrils flared. 
We both sprung backwards – me on my seat, and he, on the earth, leaning back on alert and kicking-up some dirt.
I didn’t see his split second turn, only his bolt up a bright grassy knoll – and the back of his white and grey coat flashing into disappearance.
* * * * *
Do I really know what it is like to be awake to the present moment?
In all of its possibility – and its potential for fright, insight, or delight for the senses?
Perhaps what comes close are the seconds that elapse around unexpected encounters with nature.
Like meeting wild coyote so close and temporarily out of his secretive character.
What I’m left with is deep appreciation and calm reassurance– that in our increasingly urbanized world – what’s wild in the soul and in nature can still make an appearance.
* * * * *
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out until sundown for what I found was really going in.” John Muir 1913.
“Whenever the pressure of our complex city life thins my blood and numbs my brain, I seek relief in the trail; and when I hear the coyote wailing to the yellow dawn, my cares fall from me – I am happy.” Hamlin Garland (1860 – 1940)
Denise Coles, M.A., R.C.C.
~ A therapist working in both public and private practice, supporting individuals who are facing life transitions, and anxiety, depression, and/or illness.
(604) 347-8839
