So, I met this deer the other day. It was pretty dang smart, too. See, what happened was, my wife, brother-in-law, and I were coming out of the Pecos Wilderness when my wife saw this deer munching some brush. My brother-in-law stopped the truck, as he figured I’d want to grab a photo of the deer. And he was right.
When I got out of the truck I aimed my camera, but then before I could take the shot, the deer and I made eye contact. At first, it wasn’t much, just a couple of mammals from different species looking at each other. After a couple of seconds, however, something changed. I actually heard the deer speak. “How’s it going?” it said.
As anyone might imagine, hearing a deer speak isn’t an everyday occurrence. I was incredulous and wondered if perhaps I’d had some latent effects from something I ate. I looked around to see if maybe someone else had spoken. Other than my wife and bro-in-law, it was just me and the deer.
I looked at the deer and, once again, our eyes locked. The deer said, “yes, it’s me. You ok?”
“Ummm,” I said. “I’m in the middle of nowhere talking with a deer. I’m pretty sure that’s at least one definition of being ‘not ok.’”
“Oh,” it said. “There’s nothing wrong with you. At least no because of talking with me. But there’s something off about your energy. It’s buzzing instead of flowing. I can see behind your eyes that you’re a flower and not a buzzer.”
Now, before you judge me crazy, the deer was right. I was a bit off that day. After all, I live in a city (Santa Fe, NM), where zombies are taking over the parks and trails. Santa Fe’s Mayor lives in a castle and feels guilty about his riches. So, he let’s fentanly and meth zombies do whatever they want. Meanwhile, I have to work and pay taxes. “Well,” I said to the deer. “That’s very intuitive of you. I am a little off today.”
“Yeah, I knew it. People stuff, right?”
“You could say that.”
“Take deep breath, smell the air up here. It’s been like that for centuries and will be like for many more. Your people stuff will all go away, someday, but this air will still be here, long after you’re gone.”
Maybe the deer was right. Maye a deep breath could help. So, I did as the deer asked and breathed in and tasted the freshest air I had ever breathed. I hadn’t noticed it before, but I could taste the trees and the river when the air entered my nose. I felt centuries of life flow into my veins and I everything became a lot clearer and more colorful. Even the deer seemed to glow.
“See,” the deer said. “You’re flowing again. Sometimes, all you have to do is forget your people stuff and breathe in everything around you.”
“Wow, thank you deer!”
I turned to get back into the truck, but the deer called out, “Hey, what about that picture?”
