We were all there because we responded to the invitation. We each felt the nudge, and in our own ways, we all found during that weekend what we came looking for.
I stood there, watching him. The way he moved revealed ever deepening levels of power, elegance, love and awareness. He had my respect. He radiated honor.
It all began with a single track, made one October afternoon, explored later that same day. It was early evening, the sun was low in the sky. He bent over, almost lovingly, and pointed out a single track.
It was a track that was easy for me to see, yet hard for the others. I was fortunate. I had grown up in the woods, my Dad was a trapper and could read the signs of nature better than any man I had ever met as a young boy. Yet Tracking with the Scout was different, very different.
The Scout asked us what we saw, listened to our stories, felt our frustration, born by our lack of experience and deeper awareness.
Then he opened up the entire universe to us. All from a single track.
It was the track of a small child. Not very big, not very deep. It was one of many, in a well worn path.
He showed us how to see the wobble in the track, he pointed out how to see that she was tired, and even how to see that she was frustrated. He even showed us how he knew she was a “she”.
The little girl, she kept looking back he said. Her Mom didn’t, she moved driven, focused straight ahead.
All this and so much more, he taught us to see clearly from the tracks.
We backtracked. 17 little girl steps earlier, she was screaming The Scout said. He showed us where she threw her tantrum. And he pointed out the very odd movements in the Mom’s footprint, when she gave the little one a smack. Mom wasn’t carrying her, the Scout said, because her arms were full. She was juggling picnic supplies…. he could see that in the tracks too.
“Every movement you make, shows up for in your feet. Every breath, every look, every act of frustration, every look of love.”
He paused, he looked deep within, he looked deep within each and every one of us, he had one question.
“Why?”
That was his question. Why?
I didn’t get it. Neither did the others. We had two Eagle Scouts in our group, the elite of the well respected Boy Scouts. We had a trophy moose hunter. We had 2 very loving self proclaimed tree tree huggers. A small band of nature lovers, good people, each one of us feeling the need to go deeper, to connect with and understand more. Yet, nobody understood his question. Nobody gave the answer.
He glanced… about 12 feet away. Looking at tracks which I still can remember today, after spending almost 5 years learning from him.
Even though he walked upright, he moved like a cat. Silent. Aware. Respectful. Yet profoundly curious. He walked, right over to the tall grasses, bent over slowly, reverently, and pulled out a tiny red rubber ball.
That tiny red rubber ball hit me like a lightning bolt!
He took us back to the tracks that he had just glanced at. He got us on our bellies, and showed us how to read the stories. Stories that were hidden in the dust, stories that were stored forever for the Scouts, hidden in the tracks.
The little girl lost her tiny red rubber ball.
Mom was too focused, too busy to listen. Too busy to hear.
The Scout tracked us back in time. Opened our hearts and minds to a story.
The Scout showed us the tracks of the little one trowing the ball. He had us make the exact movements of throwing like she did. He showed us how those movements showed up in her tracks, by letting us feel and see them showing up in ours.
Every thought, every awakening, every emotion. It all shows up in your tracks.
He showed us tracks of the same age. Showed us how to tell how old they were based on the sun, the gentle breeze, and how they fell apart, grain by grain, returning to where they came from.
Those tracks showed that Mom was busy packing up. Then putting on her back pack. Grabbing up the lose ends.
Mom never new she lost her ball. How could she not know? Here we were, hours later, looking at the tracks, and we knew, we had the ball.
He showed us the little girl, tugging on Mom’s pant leg, trying desperately to get her attention. And showed us how Mom began getting upset. “The Toe Ridges carry tension, show emotion.” He showed us the keys to seeing the tension in the track, even through the bottom of the little girl’s shoes.
He gently, lovingly, expertly, opened up my mind, body, and spirit to see what’s possible.
He changed my life, by inviting me into the world of the Scout. The world where you.see the stories, touch the spirit, and explore the world of what’s possible. Starting with just a single little girl’s track.
Years later. I’m at the mall, and out in the woods. Doing small group and private trainings. Teaching salesmen, therapists, and human potential junkies how to read people, and their tracks at a glance. How to see into the mind of the track maker. Training them how to see into their spirit and emotions too. Opening them up to their Native Eyes.
Because until you can see deep into the track that is left behind, you can’t see deep into YOU. Both require the same skill, both require the same willingness to stick around and observe, ask questions, see and seek answers, LONG after the average expert has fallen asleep, gone back into trance, or moved on to something else.
The world of the Scout, life with ever growing awareness, life accessing more of your integrity….
It all began with one track.
Addendum: Carol and I were recently walking one day to the store. I’m showing her how to track in gravel. One set of tracks stands out. I start describing to her the body, the mindset, the emotions of the maker. I realize, that it’s my track that I am showing her from a week ago. And I awaken. Not only do I giggle, I grow. Noticing in the track, what I might not be willing to notice in my self. Noticing the tracks we all leave behind.
Tracking is one of the FOUR key skills we share in the Native Eyes Weekend. The skills you get trained in, and the experiences you have will deepen the transformation and growth of what ever path you are on.
Take a moment and view the photos from earlier camps, and notice if that’s the kind of aliveness and spirit you want in your life.
Warning: Waking up is fun to do. Look at the photos. Come join us!