A Zen master was chased by a tiger. He jumped over a cliff to escape and found himself hanging from a vine. He looked up and saw the tiger waiting patiently. He looked down and saw a second tiger waiting below. Two mice began gnawing through the vine. Just then the Zen Master saw a strawberry growing wild on the cliff. He picked it. How sweet it tasted!

This story may have saved my life. I was exploring the Olympic peninsula in late October when I decided to hike cross country to a remote high mountain glacial lake. I climbed higher and higher, and the terrain became more impassable. The slopes were almost vertical and I had to weave my way through a maze of small cliffs. I considered turning back, but instead decided to head for a path marked on my map. It looked close, just over the next rise, or perhaps the next... or the next. But each time I reached the horizon, a new horizon loomed above.

Finally, around mid-afternoon, I paused to consider why I had not already reached the path and realized my mistake. My map had no contours on it, and the path I looked for must go around the other side of the mountain. I did not have the strength to climb over the top of this mountain and then descend the other side in the dark. I decided to cut my losses, turn around and head back down to the camp site.

The slope was so steep that I resorted to sliding, picking up speed until I hit a tree, and then picking the next tree to check my momentum. Bluffs that were easily seen on my ascent, were now invisible until the very last moment. Several times I had close calls, and twice I slid over the edge of a cliff. Twisting around, I caught a root or a small plant with just enough anchorage to allow me to scramble back up to safety. As the light faded from the sky, I finally considered that I might be in real trouble. I had been climbing for 7 hours and was exhausted. My wool coat was heavy with rain, but beneath it, my clothes were still dry. Even so, I did not want to spend the night in the rain on the side of this mountain.

A growing sense of panic drove me to take chances again and again. I could feel my luck running out. Finally I found myself on safe, level ground for the first time in hours and broke into a run, making up for lost time. Rather than going around, I pushed straight through a clearing, filled with bushes. In a matter of seconds the bushes had done what 7 hours of drizzle had not. Water from the rain soaked foliage, penetrated my coat and I was now wet. As the last light faded from the sky, I started to give into the urge to redouble my efforts, but realized that it was rushing that had gotten me into my present predicament.

I made an effort to think clearly, and remembered as a teenager learning that when facing exposure, it is important to drink plenty of water and eat food. I did not have any food and could kick myself for not bringing matches or even water on my hike. I looked around and realized that the bushes that had soaked my coat, were laden with rain. I cupped my hands and ran them through the leaves, quickly gathering enough water to sip.

It was at this point that I noticed that the bushes were wild blueberry bushes, and that they were covered with ripe berries. The story of the Zen master and the strawberry came back to me. As the fear receded, a calmness returned to my agitated mind. I proceeded to enjoy eating the berries, drinking water from the leaves and laughing to and at myself as the starr-less night enveloped me. I felt connected to the Zen master in the parable and I felt connected to the universe. I decided to enjoy whatever role God had in store for me.

Renewed, refreshed, and calm, I picked up my journey, in the dark, this time moving slowly, appreciating this amazing environment through senses other than sight. I had not gone more than a few hundred yards when I felt a slight difference in the ground beneath my feet, and reaching down with my hands felt the compacted soil of a thin path crossing my way. Had I been rushing, I would never have noticed it.

Turning left and following the path by feel, I made it safely back to camp. I had just enough strength to climb into one of the famous Sul-Duc hot springs pools and soak in the steaming water, as the rain fell from the sky around me, and the mist drifted between the massive trunks of the old growth redwood trees.

"Grandfather, what do I do when I am lost in the woods?" and the grandfather replies... "Stop, be still. The woods know where you are."

- Northwest Native American story

Namaste