Instinct and Elk Poop

we went walking today.

wyatt, aunt bea and me.

it was beautiful ... like 51 degrees ... so our favorite field that's required snowboots since december is now a vast mucky swamp.

the elk that routinely traverse our neighborhood - we live in an area technically defined as a "wildlife corridor", except it's really more of a "dead end" than a "corridor" unless they're in the mood to play chicken with the semi-trailer traffic on I-25, just due east of the corridor - had obviously been to the favorite field too.

i could tell by both the massive hoof prints in the mud - my size 10 sneakers fit neatly in to most of their tracks - but also by the mounds of elk poop littered across the field.

aunt bea thought the field smelled GREAT today. elk poop. treats that have been frozen in the tundra since december were in full thaw.

aunt bea's a retriever. she likes to get things and bring them back to me. she especially likes it when i throw the thing far far away, she gets to run get it and bring it back to me. we then play the "drop it"/"come and get it" game in order to repeat the ritual.

today she was distracted. all those piles of elk "snacks" were very interesting. i suppose it's instinct, being a dog and all, to bury one's nose in a pile of poop.

so this is how the game looked today: i'd throw the green tennis ball. she'd run get it. bring it back and drop it without my having to perform the usual tonsilectomy in order to get the ball back out of her mouth.

(do dogs even HAVE tonsils???)

then she'd run off to a pile of poop in the time it took me to bend down and get the ball again.

job done. back to the cool stuff.

i was curious. this retrieving thing. how strong is that instinct. really?

so i started giving her a little time to get very interested in a particular deposit before i'd get her attention and throw the ball the other direction.

as soon as i'd throw the ball i swear she'd give me "the look".

you know the one - the dog equivalent of a tweenage girl's "eye roll/blink-close-headturn-open" move. i believe it's got a difficulty rating of 8.5.

but off she'd go. i could tell her body was literally tearing her away from the elk patties. she was emotionally invested in those elk patties but the instinct to retrieve was just too great.

"gotta get the ball. gotta get the ball. gotta get the ball."

so it got me thinking about our "instincts" - not necessarily instincts in a technical sense - but really the machine that drives us throughout our day.

mine are necessarily moving me forward.

thanks to some amazing wisdom i've tapped in to, i've been able to reprogram the machine.

override the instincts.

resources like "beyond freedom", "the secret", "the law of attraction", the "traveler's gift", "power versus force", "you2".

and many, many more.

i didn't see the machine in motion until three years ago. before then, i was like a robot moving through my day. some days i liked the things i did and some days i didn't. but always i felt at the mercy of all the stuff "out there".

i was a victim of my circumstances.

now i am a master of my circumstances.

it's like taking yourself off "autopilot".

it takes work. but that's really where the fun part is. because that's where transformation really takes place.

the instinct to "chase the ball", so to speak, is pretty strong. it's my old programming coming through. to chase the "looking good" monster ... to be less than authentic when i've allowed myself to fear conflict ... to be less than courageous when i've broken my Word.

that's what i experience when i allow the autopilot to take over.

but each and every day, i see it more clearly. i spot it in the moment. every second i have a choice.

now i see it.

am i perfect? nah.

but that's why it's a journey:

stepping forward with intent. taking life off autopilot. resisting the urge to "chase the ball".

stopping in the magnificence of life to smell the glorious elk poop.

~aunt bea says "hey."