Though I anticipate history began for Deer and me before, my awareness of our history started in the Spring of 2011 the first time my feet stood at the end of a trail, I willing my body to override my mind as it grumbled, I really have to run?!!! Ready, set, about to go when a single file line of several Deer ran perpendicular to me across the trail.  

When Deer crossed my path, I was vowing to honor my commitment.  Two friends, a triathlon, and my yes, I will pledge.   I also stood at that trail embodying my familiar self-imposed pressure that if I didn’t go through with it, I would need to be ashamed of myself.    

Not from my two friends, but from a colleague at the time who I knew would not let me “live it down” if didn’t complete this mission.  He had been trained to complete the hardest of missions.  He was an exceptional triathlete.  By asking him for a triathlon training plan, there was no way I wasn’t going to start moving my body in a run.  So, I stood in that historical moment preparing to build the mental and physical fortitude to run 3.1 miles.

In that dance between opposites, Deer offered gentleness, compassion, and determination while I danced with harshness of self in doubt and judgment.  My awkwardness met their gracefulness.   I accepted their determination; I was running as a task to perform. I was in a push and move mode, not trust and embrace mode.  I was trying to sternly do.  Deer were messaging softly be.

I was about to start running, frightened and uncertain of my capabilities.  The deer were modeling my feelings as they ran past me, in fright and uncertainty of my sudden appearance in their home.  The deer were also showing me that once I ran with my fear into the thicket of my narratives, I would find calmness with my history.  Just as their run into the brush became a nearly silent calm walk that I could no longer hear them doing.  

A dear friend recently shared with me about a group of treasured lifetime friendships she has.  One of the top things she loves about the bond is the history that they share.  A history that isn’t just their friendship but is the stories each of them have lived individually with highs and lows, good times and challenging ones, certainty and uncertainty, joy and grief, doubt and faith.  Their individual stories integrate into a collective history of support, belonging, and empowerment.   

I marvel at and love how life lays out steppingstones to follow, bringing a message that resonates, and then brings another after that to take us deeper into contemplation.   A few days after this conversation with a friend, I was in a meaningful conversation with someone special about time and how I feel that time softens and her grace-full wisdom that as time goes on we are offered the opportunity to look back, observe, and see how what we experienced fit into where we are now.   

Deer continues to show up for me at the “right” times.  When I’m in a plank workout on my rebounder (trampoline), digging deep with my breathing through the muscle “burn”, Deer walks into view of our French door nudging with their determination message and also be gentle with yourself reminder. 

They still appear at the start of a hike or run, or when I need a reminder to be compassionate with self or others.  Deer greets me from a few hundred feet away as I walk out our home door, our eyes locking.  I say hello, namaste, thank you for visiting today.  They respond with a slight wave of the tail, further eye contact, and then calmly, slowly, they turn and walk away.

And of course, if you read December’s SHED post, Deer have been there to affirm the shedding process I was going through shedding my inner beliefs. 

Deer and I have a history.   I was filled with self-doubt when Deer crossed my path that first time I ran.  The doubt not only about running.   I was doubtful of me in many ways.  I had been moving out of depression, regret, and grief.  I was as far away from self-compassion and gentleness with self as I was ready to run a ¼ mile. 

Over time, as Deer patiently and determinedly kept showing up, 3.1 miles became 6.2, then 13.1, then 26.2, 33.5, 50.  As time passed, doubt and the memories that had initiated the doubt softened.  The gentle graceful visits of Deer became my gentler running steps.  The narrations for each of us – the little girl, teenager, young adult, and middle-aged adult – became an integrated history, the purposeful experiences that all played a part in the chapter I am now living.

Very recently I ran a trail marathon in the “hills” of Catalina Island (California), “hills” my affectionate name for mountain terrain.  In the last few years, as time has softened a feeling I needed to run like Deer, I have fallen in love with mountains and the parallel to life that traversing elevation teaches.  Hiking up steep switchback grades and back down teaches me valleys are temporary and trust that the summits will be reached! 

Hiking mountains requires presence.  It isn’t a race to the top.  Oh, some do race, but for me, the views on the journey are too awe-filling to rush up and down them.  Now, like Deer, I do not always run every step.  I pause, look the views in the eye, and then calmly turn and walk away. 

During the recent marathon, Deer communicated they were with me, still integrated in each other’s life chapters to create more history.  Their prints leaving me a path to follow of gentleness, compassion, determination, and grace.   Softly pointing

Be.