Living Dangerously

"Then the deer stepped from the woods. It walked from the shadows under the trees into a clear space. Antlers sprang from its brow, each with five or six tines. From the antlers, from each tine, green leaves were growing, as if from the branches of a tree….Then it turned and vanished. In shyness, perhaps. Or simply because we get no more than such dreamy chances to look upon the real world. The great door opens a crack, a hint of the truth is given—so bright it is almost a death, a joy we can't bear—and then it is gone." Excerpted from December by Mary Oliver
He was the first buck I have seen in several years. He was still young, but from my vantage point at the upstairs window, I could clearly see his rack of horns. They had just begun to curve up and out, already branching. As often happens, he sensed he had been seen. I've found that happening over and over with my encounters with the animals in the woods. So, even though I was mostly hidden, after a moment or two of watching him, the buck suddenly raised his crowned head and looked right up towards my window, locking me in his gaze. There is always a palpable tension created in that moment of locking eyes. Being seen carries with it exposure and vulnerability. In the animal kingdom. If you are in someone's sight, you might also be in their plans for dinner.
Allowing ourselves to be seen is a strange duality. We do an enormous amount of posturing in an attempt to control what parts of us get seen while at the same time, placing great value on being able to open up unadorned with another. We seek the intimacy found in sharing ourselves, but still worry whether allowing it will cause us to be someone's dinner. In a competitive world such as ours, power is often gained through exploiting what we see are the weaknesses of others. It is only a temporary form of power, no matter how secure it may seem at the moment, but it does exist. We all understand the term 'eaten alive' for good reason. Real authentic power, however, does not require the weakness of something else to exist. It does not feed off finding fault. Instead it is generated by what Marion Woodman calls 'our presence'. It is a self awareness that completely accepts ourselves, not unlike the young stag, and which does not require the approval of someone else. Those who see themselves so completely, have the real power. How we use it real or not, appears to be up to us.

Life in the wild is dangerous and so is life in the human. There are no guarantees when we are seen that we will be safe much less accepted. Fear makes us want that so much. But there are times, when despite our fear, we take a step out towards the middle. It might happen spontaneously, the result of a long nourished sense of person, or deliberately, after gathering a great deal of courage to believe in our own value. It doesn't matter how. Either way, someone takes a chance and allows the gaze of the other. This is true power, generated from deep acceptance of our own value. This is presence without a fear that requires a reciprocal approval. It is infused with what the buck exuded: what is being seen, is worth seeing.