When one regularly seeks time outdoors in nature, as I do, one will inevitably encounter wildlife. I have had numerous such encounters—some beautiful, some inexplicable, but rarely have they been of the terrifying variety.
HERE is an account of an up-close-and-personal bird encounter at my lake house. And HERE is another, even closer-up bird encounter. My trip to the Galápagos Islands was rife with animal encounters, but that almost doesn’t count as it felt more like a zoo without walls and a gigantic aquarium without glass. On the trail here in the states, I’ve only faced down lizards, an o’opossum, and a family of badgers. Other than one large rattlesnake stretched out across a hiking trail, I’ve encountered nothing that could harm me.
Until last week.
My sister, Andrea, and I drove to the North Carolina mountains to meet my other sister, Alisa, and two of her friends for river rafting. Andrea and I arrived before the other three, so we had two days to explore by foot before we explored rivers with them. On one of those days, we decided to hike a portion of the Appalachian Trail. I’ve hiked a few short sections on my visits to these parts, but Andrea never had. I found a section of the AT that crossed US Highway 64 that looked promising. We would hike south for three miles, then return the same way. My hiking app prepared us for the gentle climb at the start, then a fairly flat section that followed a ridge line, then down a steeper section.
There was a small parking lot carved out of the area alongside the two-lane highway where the trail began. Another option was to walk down the road a bit and hike northerly, but that portion looked to be more difficult. We got out of the car and walked around to the back where our gear was stored. We donned our hiking boots, backpack with its water bladder, and trekking poles. Once I was geared up, I turned around. And saw a bear walking across the highway toward us, almost to the center dividing line.
“There’s a bear,” I sort of quietly mumbled. I wasn’t sure words would even come out of my mouth.
Andrea turned from the back of the car just as the bear turned and began running back across the road. But I had made eye contact with him. I looked at him, and he looked at me, then in a split second, he turned and ran. We even heard his claws clatter on the guardrail as he galumphed over it.
It was a full-grown black bear. While he had the wherewithal to flee, Andrea and I froze, hearts racing, legs shaking.
I had had compassion for the little brown bird that I found trapped in my lake house, but there was only fear for this bear. Eventually, fear did give way to compassion when I realized he was as scared of us as we were of him. We hear that sentiment frequently, and it’s true. It’s just hard to remember that on a first sighting. Now, on the other side of this encounter, I realized that the bear was startled to see us, and his heart was racing as he fled the way he came. I can have a healthy respect for bears, and at the same time, see them as fellow creatures deserving of a place to live and thrive. We were in his territory, invaders if you will, and he was terrified to see us. He didn’t want the encounter any more than we did.
And, yes, after our heart rates settled, we hiked as planned. I don’t think we would have chosen to continue had the bear run into the forest on “our side” of the highway. And it wasn’t long before we could enjoy the treasures of this trail—vistas, wildflowers, mushrooms, snails, and centipedes.
Fear in our personal lives can also give way to compassion, for ourselves. When confronted with hardship, life’s “slings and arrows,” fear can be a common reaction. Fear of the unknown, fear of a known difficult future, or fear of failure can trigger the same reactions to sudden terrifying encounters—a fight, flight, or freeze response. Once reality settles in, and the initial confrontation with the fear is acknowledged, self-compassion can rise. When we see our plight with clear eyes, we can see it for what it is. And if we can move from fear, through self-pity and into self-compassion, we more more apt to make good decisions going forward. And love ourselves in the process.