The Wildlife Within Us All

But You'll Probably Need a Guide to Find It

Only a few feet into the rainforest at Mistico Arenal Hanging Bridges Park, Costa Rica, we saw our first wildlife.

A guide was taking another family along the trail, and he kindly pointed out to us freeloaders that he had just noticed a monkey.

Noticed is an understatement.

Though the monkey was directly above us, it was easily at a 50-75 feet distance - hanging out on a space of branches that even the keenest trail-walkers would miss completely.

Two minutes later, we came across another guide leading a couple of eager tourists. The three of them had stopped alongside a tree with a large, cavernous base that appeared to have been carved wide open - and still the tree soared high, green, and generous.

The layers of exposed, interior darkness were of mild passing interest on their own, but the guide was explaining to this couple how to see find the particular grooves where bats were sleeping - and how and when they would rustle to life again that evening.

Then, for the next two hours we patiently walked the windy curves and steep inclines.

We enjoyed the provided rests.

And we braved the hanging bridges.

I cannot commend this opportunity any more highly should you find yourself in the Arenal region of Costa Rica someday.

But you know what didn’t happen during those remaining two hours?

Wildlife sightings of any sort.

How is that possible?! you rightly wonder. Because even if you have never visited a rainforest, its a natural (and correct) assumption that with all that rain-and-green, the place must be teeming with life.

And it is.

For me, the feeling was this: it was like walking through a secret that everybody was in on - except me.

I could feel the life.
I could hear the life.
But I could not see it.

Sure, I appreciated the lush green that covered above and around us. But I was blind to the abundance concealed right before my very eyes. Like the other monkeys, bats, and who knows what else…

Mistico Arenal Hanging Bridges Park done the right way?

Get. A. Guide.

—

Know another place teeming with life in every direction?

Every-Single-Day, Life.

Sure, we readily see the thick foliage of people and pets that populate our days. And our list of meetings, activities, and deadlines is proof positive that we ourselves are very much alive!

And yet…

Does it ever feel like there’s something more concealed right before our eyes?¹

Like there might be a richness, a depth, the-best-kind-of-secret somehow located…

• Just under the thin leaf of casual conversation - if only we knew the angle that might open it.

• Just above the normal sightline - if only we knew the precise movement to look for.

• Just inside the layers of interior darkness that recent events have exposed - if only we could trust that reaching (with)in would not swallow us whole.

Our intuition is not off.

Parker Palmer observes, “The soul is like a wild animal—tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out.”

(Red Eyed Tree Frog hanging out in the middle of a night jungle tour - and all of a foot away. Of course, a Night Guide was the only way we noticed)

The Soul - moving-in-strength right below, above, and within the thick foliage. But oh-so-shy.

How then, do we catch a glimpse of…

This Sacred Strength?
The Center of our Truest Self?
The Wildlife within?

How do we appreciate this gift that - if seen/appreciated/followed - frees our unique voice-and-gifts for power, purpose, and joy in this world?

Much can be said about this, but two hours in the rainforest made this much quite clear:

Get. A. Guide.

This is the gift of great mentors, coaches, counselors and conversation-partners who have more experience along the terrain of life, or at least a certain part of the terrain.

They’ve accumulated enough failures, hard-won wisdom, and love that when they peer into the Wilderness of another, they readily sense when there is movement above, below, or deep within.

A sure sign of a truly great Wilderness Guide?

They ask good questions.
Thoughtful questions.
Genuine questions.

And then as they perceive the Shy Wildlife moving quite near (though out of our typical sightline)…

…or they sense wings awakening deep within the cavernous darkness…

…there is one thing they do not do: they do not pounce, yell, or shout. And they most certainly do not point, judge, and shame.

(There is a reason the Mistico Park had numerous reminders to remain quiet throughout)

No, instead the Great Wilderness Guides invite us to come alongside them, and they ask…

Do you see that? Do you see how your voice comes out so beautifully-and-powerfully in this way? How your gifts flourish in this setting? This way?

What happens when you stay far from this movement?
What happens when you move near to it?

Do you hear the movement located in the darkened space carved right into the side of your life? Do you perceive a rustling of wings?

And what do you make of this movement?
What would it look like to follow that? Heed that?

—

At the end of our guide-less rainforest adventure, we saw a small group of people saying goodbye to their guide. They gave him a warm smile and a tip.

It would likely be both awkward and entirely unnecessary to Venmo some of our Wilderness Guides a little something today.²

But a text of gratitude?
A note of thanks?
A donation in their honor?
A prayer of thanks?

I’m not sure anyone has been over-thanked in this lifetime.

Another way to honor them?

Remember what they helped you see about your Shy Wildlife.

And follow.

1. The entire premise of Small Stories about Big Things is that the truly Big Things of life are tucked right within the many Small Stories that we live each day.

2. To be sure, if you have a coach or counselor, it is certainly right to pay them fairly. They are truly a great help! I simply recognize that Wilderness Guides come in all shapes and forms, paid and unpaid alike.