On Foxes, Earwigs and Noticing Everything
Early morning stillness belongs to me.
The whole point of waking up at 5:00 a.m. is so that I can have some precious time to myself, undisturbed by the many needs, wants, questions (oh so many questions!) and incessant sounds from other family members (how are you still making noise when you’re not doing anything - how?!) With my children not in camp this summer, it is imperative that I have this time. So it was all the more horrifying to have my peace disturbed by a most unwelcome guest.
Hot coffee in hand, I went to my meditation corner. I was thinking about how lovely and peaceful this time would be. I was thinking about whether I should use a guided meditation or just silently guide myself. I was thinking about whether I should journal after, or just jump right into work. I was thinking about why my morning meditations never seem to do as well on YouTube when this is the perfect time to meditate.
What I definitely was not thinking about was the mug heading towards my mouth. My pondering came to a grinding halt with an unusual sensation on my lips: What the…? Why is there a piece of….no wait… its a fly!….oh dear god, it’s not a fly!….It’s a farking EARWIG!!! I spat out the coffee while my body went into a head to toe convulsion.
Running to the kitchen, I held the contaminated mug as far away from me as my arm could stretch. I violently poured the coffee down the drain, running the tap to make sure the little intruder had no chance. I rinsed my mouth out a thousand times, then used a tea towel to scrub my lips with the fervour of Lady Macbeth: “Out damn bug!” in hopes of erasing the experience from my mouth and mind. It was futile, I could still feel the creepy sensation of its phantom body. I wanted to scream out my disgust, but of course, this early in the morning, I couldn't.
Still shuddering, I went to the window in hopes that the sight of the horses and the landscape would erase my short-term memory. Instantly, I saw movement far off in the hay field. Is that a turkey? No wait…it’s a deer! Oh wow, it’s not a deer….it’s a beautiful fox!! I reached for the binoculars to take a better look - and thankfully, was temporarily distracted. Sure enough, it was a fox out on a morning hunt. Turkeys we see regularly. Deer we see somewhat regularly. But a fox - those we see only a handful of times a year.
I moved my gaze over to the horses. I wonder if they noticed it?
There they were, all three of them: standing still, heads held high, ears forward. Watching, observing, paying attention. Until finally…back to eating.
I put down the binoculars with a smile. Of course they noticed. They notice everything.
I let the message percolate, along with a new pot of coffee: they don't need preparation to do meditation. They are meditation. There is no thinking about the moment, there is just being in the moment. There is no planning what will come after the meditation because there is no after. There is just the moment, and then the next one.
How different would our day be if we didn’t wait, plan or prepare to meditate; if we could just be meditation? In a continuous state of awareness; calmly noticing; peacefully paying attention. Of course, we can’t hold this state for the full 18 hrs each day, when we have so many responsibilities and things that need taking care of. But what if we could bring in just a little more noticing and a little less thinking?
We would never miss a beautiful fox. And we most certainly would never eat a nasty earwig.