As I looked up from my journal, I noticed something moving on the ground.
A beetle.
“He’s pretty big,” I thought. “I hope he doesn’t crawl this way all over my stuff.”
Suddenly, as if he was listening, the beetle turned left—away from my yoga mat—right on cue. Looking a bit further up, I noticed another beetle on its back, clearly dead.
“A fallen foe?” I wondered. I decided to continue watching the beetle who appeared to be the victor of whatever went down between him and the other creature, and noticed he was actually limping.
“Poor guy,” I thought. Wow, how quickly I went from wanting him to move away from me to sympathizing with his current state.
Now intrigued, I watched him pull himself along the floorboards of the Mountain Yurt—where we finished a yoga practice merely minutes before. He didn’t make it very far before he got caught on the edge of a floorboard and flipped over onto his back.
I immediately sprang up from my seated position on my yoga mat and walked over. Still too afraid to touch the insect that caught my attention, I used some leftover business cards in my backpack to set him upright, but he kept getting flipped over again and again.
Finally, after several tries, I scooped the beetle up and brought him outside. I then picked up my yoga mat and journal and started making the trek back down to the barn, where my group would be gathering for lunch.
***
This encounter with my newfound beetle friend happened a few weeks ago at Knoll Farm in Waitsfield, Vermont. I was there for the third annual Labor Day Namaste Getaway led by yoga instructors (and my friends) Kristin Walsh and Erica Schommer. This trip was my second time at the retreat and my second time at Knoll Farm. Surrounded by nature in all its beauty and splendor.
…and here I am, sitting a huge Mountain Yurt, alone, staring at a beetle. The whole time all I could think of was: since when do we have time to watch beetles like this?
***
In a world full of distractions (both online and offline), folks can find it difficult to slow down, savor each moment, and keep in mind what’s important.
I think Morrie Schwartz said it best in Mitch Albom’s beautiful novel, Tuesdays with Morrie: “…most of us all walk around as if we’re sleepwalking. We really don’t experience the world fully, because we’re half asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do.”
I too am guilty of this. I wake up, automatically look at my device, get ready for the day, drive to work to stare at another device for eight hours, go home to watch Netflix on yet another device, go to bed after final moments with my original device, rinse, and repeat.
But not in Waitsfield, Vermont.
No, the reason why I look forward to this retreat SO much and came back a second time (and hopefully will return more and more times!) is that I am forced out of this senseless, robotic routine.
I am forced to look outward AND inward.
Yes, it can be pretty intense…but refreshing and needed. There are SO many things you don’t notice when you’re running around “half asleep.” The gorgeous sunrises, the delightful moments of stillness, the fresh, crisp air.
And yes, you may even miss the epic journey of a tiny beetle crossing wooden planks.
***