Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 6/28/21 Nik Curfman 6/28/21

Abstract: A Fox In The Field

At the edge of the field,

to the left of a lone black oak,

I saw him.

At the edge of the field,

to the left of a lone black oak,

I saw him.

His ears were sharp,

and beneath them, his long nose sniffed the early morning air.

I remained motionless,

to prolong this moment to its full potential.

I studied his long tail,

tipped white as you would expect.

His black paws like Sunday church socks.

A beat later, a slight breeze at my back,

and the encounter was over.

All my stillness is no match for a shift in the wind,

and the smeller of a fox.

He circled to look at me,

then began to retreat into the woods.

Before he ducked behind a manzanita bush,

He looked back at me.

I could tell he was curious,

but his instinct led him onward.

Back to safety, he slipped.

I hope we meet again.

Nik Curfman 5/1/21 Nik Curfman 5/1/21

Journal: #270 My Reset Button

The last five weeks of my life were a challenge. I batted loneliness, nicotine addition, and anger. I lacked grace for myself and my family. And, I forgot what faith is. But today, on a barrier island north of Charleston, South Carolina, none of it mattered. It's as though all the heart-ache and striving melted away. Nature is the Lord's constant miracle, and my reset button.

Away from the crowds near the board walk, I wandered to the quiet end of Isle of Palms. I loved the way my feet splashed through the surf and the cool wind at my back. For a few moments I sat in the sand to consider the waves and gulls, the life around me. Before my trek back to humanity, I stuck my feet in the Atlantic ocean. The water was cold, but the current was soft. I shut my eyes and let the sunshine bathe my soul. It was good. Somewhere between Columbia and that beach, the load I carried the last month broke off.

More tomorrow. Love y'all.

Nik Curfman 2/6/21 Nik Curfman 2/6/21

Journal: #198 It Was About Being

Today wasn’t about finding solutions or self-improvement. It was about being. Today, I enjoyed this wonderful life the Lord has given me. I didn’t need anyone else or want material things I didn’t have. The sun was out and I am happy to be alive. That’s a form of grace too.

I slept in till the late hour of 8:30 AM, then laid in bed till 9:30 AM. The bright sun beaming through my widow was a delight, so somewhere around 10:30 AM I hatched my plan.

I haven’t taken a proper hike in months. After I affirmed the weather, I deemed today the day to end that drought. I choose Burney Falls on the recent recommendation of my new friend Adam. All I needed was coffee and a smoothie. By noon, I was off.

The drive to Burney Falls was soothing and scenic. The road winds and gently climbs four-thousand feet from the valley to the Cascade mountains to the east. I didn’t rush it, because I wanted to soak in the sun and peace. The drive was only the beginning.

The falls are majestic and powerful. I loved everything about them: the green moss on the rocks, the mist of the crashing water, and towering the Douglas firs. It’s dramatic and settling in a way only nature can muster. Eventually, I put my phone down and let the moment overwhelm my senses. There’s something healing and restorative about nature, about the sky and rushing water, the rock and the mud.

As I watched the fall water down the rocks today I closed my eyes to listen to the sound of the water. I thought how great that sound is. Of all the sounds in our world, does anyone hate it? In all my life I have yet to hear anyone hate the sound of water- a flowing river, the silence of snow, or the rhythmic ocean tides.

The Lord made it this way. He made this glorious planet for us. It’s not small thing.

I had a long and trying week. I felt a lot of emotions and thought thoughts I’d rather avoid. But today, without drugs or cheap pleasure, I was renewed. I did not find all the answers to my questions or solve all the issues. And, I don’t care.

I get to live in gorgeous part of the world. In less than an hour I can hike up mountains and float down rivers. All of it a reminder that He is good and wants us to be happy. Life will happen. No need to get upset about it. ;)

Thank you Lord for this planet. Thank you for all the trees, and the tiny gray mouse I saw in the rocks today. Thank you for falling water and grace. Blessed be You Jesus.

Amen.

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Nik Curfman 10/18/20 Nik Curfman 10/18/20

Daily Journal: #91 Our Natural Conscience

After He declared us good, He commanded us to multiply and fill the Earth. This command is a reflection of Him- to create, share, explore, and move. It is a task to be like Him, God in His natural state, Love creating more room for Love.

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This morning, I bought coffee and drove twenty minutes north to the dam holding Lake Shasta. Once there I sat in the coolness of the morning and meditated on the landscape around me. Northern California is a rugged beauty. She offers redwood covered mountains, clear rivers and lakes, and infinite blue skies. It’s enough to remind anyone how special our planet is, what a blessing to be alive.

After a few minutes I noticed small birds skimming the lake, hunting for breakfast. My heart grows when birds and forest animals continue to go about their business whenever I am present. It’s like being welcomed into their world instead of seen as an intruder. While I watched the birds search for their morning meal, I wondered if they enjoy the hunt. I hope so. They look like they enjoy it. (I assume the hunt is more fun when not on the edge of starvation, as most activities lose their luster when life is on the line.)

The State of Nature

The more I watched the birds today, the more I thought about how CS Lewis defined nature or what nature is:

[T]he natural is “what springs up, or comes forth, or arrives, or goes on, of its own accord: the given, what is there already: the spontaneous, the unintended, the unsolicited.”
- Miracles

The birds I watched were simply being who they are. They didn’t know or care about who the President is or will be. I presume they could care less about their hunting form or how they smell. After a beat, I expanded my view to include the redwood, ash, and oaks trees on the mountains behind me- each one pushing their branches out and upward toward the sun. Each player in this scene acted the way it was created to be.

The State of Humanity

About the only species on the planet who acts beneath its nature are humans. The gift of our consciousness comes with the burden of knowing how to hurt ourselves and everything around us. Then we create cultures of shared pain. From these platforms we justify all manner of destruction and war: greed, brutality, hatred, murder, and excess.

Only a culture suffering the effects of ill defined freedom could see a child as a choice and parenthood as bondage. Family is our natural state, the thing we gravitate toward in the absence of jaded influences. Only a culture heralding rugged-individualism could justify mountains of greed and systems of brutality in the name of “law and order.” The fact we believe in lack, tribes, and acceptable violence is evidence we are using our God given conscience to live beneath our calling and potential.

Our State of Origin

In Genesis 1 we read about the original intent of our species, to be the ultimate reflection and beneficiary of the Father’s love.

God blessed them and God said to them: Be fertile and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things that crawl on the earth. God also said: See, I give you every seed-bearing plant on all the earth and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit on it to be your food; and to all the wild animals, all the birds of the air, and all the living creatures that crawl on the earth, I give all the green plants for food. And so it happened. God looked at everything he had made, and found it very good. Evening came, and morning followed—the sixth day.
Genesis 1:28-31 NABRE

We are good. That is our original nature. He made us in His image and called us good. We are the final and great work of art on this amazing planet. What He gave to us above all else was and ability to perceive, create, and love beyond anything else in our solar system.

Our natural state is one in which we trust the Lord to supply our needs, not our jobs or the government. Our natural state is one in which we create solutions for our needs and works of art for the heart. Our natural state is one in which we consider the risks of love, rebuke fear, and decide to love anyway- knowing we might get crushed (He is the God of redemption and resurrection after all.) Our natural state is one in which truth is not devoid of compassion, and repentance partners with kindness and grace.

Though we come from the same dust, we are not animals or plants. We are something else. God knew we would use our ability to choose to fall away from what we were, to live beneath our callings. It’s ok. He also created the path back to the original state. And that’s path’s name is Jesus. The fullest and best life we can live is in constant communion with Him. Everyday. Some days will be better than others, but all of them will be worth living.

Thank you Lord for this day. Thank you for the ability to see your Glory in the creation around me, and in me. I ask for your Glory and purpose to be revealed in all my brothers and sisters in Redding, in California, the United States, and all the world. I reject and rebuke the lies standing between You and our hearts, You and our ears, You and our ability to love.

A-men.

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Nik Curfman 9/28/20 Nik Curfman 9/28/20

A: My Morning Walks Are Not Routine

I walk early each morning because I expect in faith to be met by Jesus. His arrival is no less spectacular, even though it is expected.

No one encountering God can call it boring. And is never routine.

Routine, a fixed action, is nothing special. It is the slow drone of the flat but necessary functions of life.

To the outside judge, my predawn rise probably looks routine.

I shut off my alarm, make my bed, and dress for the weather. Not yet fully awake, I grab my water bottle and lace my dusty yellow sneakers.

Six or seven minutes later, I walk down a well worn path to a trail lined with oaks and the occasional Foothill Pine.

I require no headphones and desire no human companion on these morning walks, although I do enjoy the kindness of those I encounter.

Seems rather ordinary I suppose, to the outsider. Boring even. It is the downfall of the judge, never living, never knowing the fullness of life is in the doing.

What looks dull and unremarkable is anything but.

While I desire no human interaction, I am not alone. He is with me. And we talk. A lot.

In this space I find gratitude, peace, and the ability to move into the stillness of the unknown.

Further down the path, my mind becomes quiet. I listen to the robins tweet and squirrels shout warnings to one another as I pass.

I practice being present, and in it I am able to enjoy the subtle yet constant change of the natural world around me:

The death and resurrection of wild flowers.

The constant preparation of the squirrels for winter.

And the daily change of the time and path of the sun.

No. There is nothing routine in this dedication. Wonder is present in the daily progression of the seasons, and each season offers a new joy.

My body also bares the fruit of my labor, my legs slimmer, my waist thinner, and my mind clearer. Most especially, my heart is full of His glory.

I walk early each morning because I expect in faith to be met by Jesus. His arrival is no less spectacular, even though it is expected.

No one encountering God can call it boring. And is never routine.