This past summer I got to have another face-to-face encounter with a black bear. I was going down the winding mountain trail, she was going up, and we both stopped short upon meeting each other. I took a small step back to give her more space, trying not to fall off the mountainside. She quickly sussed me out, then turned and headed into the forest. I stood there watching her go, wistful and graced.

Every time I see a bear, I’m struck by the relaxed, easeful way they move. When they encounter something unexpected, they’re immediately alert and responsive. Then they go back to being relaxed again. Wouldn’t this be a powerful way to approach the uncertainty of our times? Relaxed and responsive, calm and available to act when needed. I like it!

I think about bears more often than most, but I still get the shock of “Oh! This is really happening now!” when I actually see one. Most of life is not so compelling. This kind of wake up call to aliveness is harder to come by when paying bills or brushing teeth. Though those mundane tasks may be exactly where more presence could help!

It makes me think of my dear friend Svenja, who died this past spring on the precipice of becoming an empty-nester. Sven was a master of savoring the moment, someone I could always count on to both dive deep and find humor in all things. On hospice care in her final weeks, one of the last texts she sent me said:

“I don’t feel like talking, It’s all a bunch of Hoo Ha. I just want to see stuff and taste stuff…”

It is all a bunch of Hoo Ha, isn’t it? We only get the moments we get. It’s a gift when we fully experience the small, everyday sensory experiences while they’re here. After all, this is really happening right now!

The point isn’t to be commanding “Be grateful!” at ourselves or each other in the little moments. Like Sven, who didn’t like to be too precious about things, we can take the pressure off. Savoring is not clinging–it fiercely appreciates then lets go. Savor and release. Relax and respond. Here and now, here and now.

I used to build forts in the woods with the neighbor kids when I was young. Storms would come, we would forget about these refuges for a while, then we’d go back and have to refortify. I think we’re in a time of inner fortification right now. We’re remembering what matters, replenishing the strength and courage we’ll need as our collective human story continues. My question is, what is this time of change asking of you?

Wishing you time to reflect, savor, and fortify—not just now, but any time you need to,

Julia Aziz

PS–If you’d like more support navigating these challenging times, we have spots available in the next season of Release & Empower: A Group Program for Women Moving Through Change. Or if you’d prefer individual counseling, please check out my psychotherapy page.

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