Reverend Janet Parsons
August 30, 2020
Reflection
I’ve had some odd encounters with animals in the past few months, but the oddest of all was while camping a couple of weeks ago. We were sitting at the edge of a pond with our feet in the warm water and a frog swam up and sat on my sister’s foot. And stayed there for several minutes. Well, we said, it’s 2020.
I am sensing a real shift these days in my relationship to animals. Perhaps it’s a result of living on the edge of the woods. Perhaps like so many things, it’s a result of my upended life, home so much that I notice more and am learning more. But maybe because it’s 2020 and all things are feeling odd and different, I am aware of encounters and of the presence of animals in ways I haven’t before.
There was the up-close staring contest with the barred owl. “You are so beautiful,” I said to him. “I know,” his gaze replied, unblinking.
Then there was the deer that approached one morning, getting to within 10 feet of me and the dog. Usually when she gets a chance the dog chases deer straight up the hill, but this morning, I think she was stunned into stillness, as was I. A second deer hovered further away. You could almost see her thinking, “Hey, Bambi? Honey? I think that’s close enough.” Eventually one of the deer made a sound, and the dog barked. And the spell was broken, leaving me wondering for the rest of the day, “what just happened here?”
Sometimes I hear a loud whirring sound and realize that a hummingbird is near. Often when I look up I see one just feet away from my head, hovering in mid-air, watching me. Increasingly, I am developing the sense that these creatures know who I am, and that we are becoming connected in some way.
We Unitarian Universalists often take our seventh principle more seriously than any other. Let’s say our principle together now if you know it: we affirm and promote the interdependent web of all existence, of which we are a part. I have always agreed with this principle intellectually. But I feel my awareness shifting and becoming more of an understanding of the heart, rather than just of the words.
Increasingly I feel both the presence and the mystery of these non-human creatures, and how aware they are of us. We, who have long believed that we were the most important creation, God’s favorite, as it were, have had to pay less attention to the others. In all my encounters this summer, I have sensed their curiosity. I hope we humans can learn to become as curious about them, their lives, and their needs.
Out of this curiosity can grow compassion, and wisdom, and a commitment to keep our planet a healthy place for all God’s creation to thrive. Let’s remember that this is our home, but not just ours. And I dare to hope that in a world where we pay closer attention to the non-human creatures, we can learn more compassion and love for other humans who we consider different as well. Let’s let the animals show us the way, with curiosity and compassion.
May it be so.