Her scream was jarring - like something you’d hear in a horror movie where a sudden terror invades the tranquil paradise.
In our case, the paradise was poolside in Costa Rica as Michelle and I were enjoying three days to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. Both of us had nearly nodded off under the shaded, late-afternoon calm until the woman’s shriek had us both bolt upright just in time to see the woman sprinting across the wood deck and then jumping straight into the pool.
My heartbeat picked up notably, wondering what was prompting this level of surreal concern. Fortunately, it only took a second to see who was chasing her…
Monkeys are everywhere in Costa Rica, and in the area where we stayed, they were especially prevalent in the late afternoons. This particular monkey had moved from the trees above and was climbing right along the poolside railing.
I smiled, briefly, thinking about all the other truly horrific things I had imagined might have made the woman shriek. And to think, it was only a monkey!
But then the monkey showed its teeth and made a low, hissing sound, and I got it. This monkey was no joke.
Actually, a few seconds later we saw quite clearly why this monkey was no joke: just behind him was mommy monkey with a newborn monkey on her back.
Super cute. Super precious. And also, super off-limits to human contact, as Mr. Monkey was making abundantly clear.
For the next couple of minutes, guests did their best to remain at a respective distance as they sought close-up photos of the monkey family - as well as the extended family members swinging from several nearby trees. A couple of hotel staff members drew near and smiled casually at the guests and monkeys. They’d seen this thing a few times, it was clear.
Amid the tropical paparazzi frenzy, one guest quietly went up to one of the hotel staff members, pointed to a tree branch overhanging the pool deck in the opposite direction of the monkeys, and asked, “Is it poisonous?”
A long, slender, green snake had quietly wound its way across a tree branch that was low enough to brush the top of my hair if I were to walk directly under it without ducking. I don’t know how this guy had noticed the well-camouflaged snake moving among the humans, but I found myself grateful - and newly amazed at how a mere look and reputation can inspire such notable fear.
“Yes, poisonous. Stay away,” the staff member acknowledged to the guest. The staff member was non-pulsed, but he was also quite direct in his eye contact.
Me?
Seated atop a lounge chair set alongside a sunkissed pool, I found myself quickly un-vacationed. Trying to play it, cool, sure. But the body never lies, and at that moment the body was speaking clearly through my elevated heartbeat. Eventually, I took a deep breath and walked (and ducked) swiftly under the branch – and back to our room.
The jungle had spoken, and I was ready for predictable peace once more.
--
When the wild and untamed realities of life make themselves known, we are usually not favorably disposed.
Who enjoys…
Going on vacation only to have a monkey running at you – with no real idea what it can or will do?
Having a snake quietly show up only a few feet from our happy repose?
Termites eating at our foundation (again)?
The roots of a tree breaking through the custom walkway installed five years ago?
Of course, every time the wild speaks, we would be wise to remember that it’s their home, too. And usually, they were there first. Our ‘predictable peace’ is a temporary illusion, easily broken poolside or back in the hotel room – as it was for me when I arrived that late afternoon to ants marching around our room’s coffee maker.
And yet, what if there was more to the interruption than fear, nuisance, and frustration?
For instance…
What if a few moments reflecting on the monkey has us consider the things for which we hold so dear that we would be willing to stand tall (or fall entirely if necessary) to protect it? How might that alone provide some fresh clarity about our life?
What if a few moments reflecting on the snake has us recall afresh how even the safest most serene bets in life are hardly guaranteed - and so how do we really want to live our days?
What if a few moments reflecting on the hotel staff’s response to the wild interruptions has us consider that maybe we need not have a posture of fear-and-avoidance before what is wild, untamed, or different around us (or within us)? What if instead we took up a posture of curiosity? A posture that asks, “What is this teaching me?” A posture that eventually finds itself wonderfully and wisely at home with the wild?
As John Muir observed in 1901, “Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity.”
Quite simply, when it comes to finding the deepest repose and peace, there is something counterintuitive and also magnetic about the wildness spaces. Indeed, as Michael Easter’s The Crisis of Comfort: Embrace Discomfort to Reclaim Your Wild, Happy, Healthy Self memorably unpacks at one point, three days in nature not only has a powerful calming effect on our entire nervous system, it also notably boosts our creativity and problem-solving abilities.1
Imagine that - the wild moments not as interruption but invitation.
—
The next morning, Michelle and I took up the poolside invitation - we joined in a guided hike through the jungle where we learned about these trees that have thousands of ants crawling on them at all times. The ants protect the leaves of the tree from being eaten while the tree provides the ants with nutrients. The flourishing of each is entirely interdependent.
A wild thought, perhaps, as we peak outdoors.
And another invitation?
Other studies noted in the book cite how even just 20 minutes outdoors begins to help our nervous system and creativity. Caveat: those same studies show that it only happens when we don’t bring our phone :)
Are not the wild things all around us? Curiosity is a good place to be in all situations?
I always find myself refreshed and energized when out in nature. Sometimes I crave it.