To seek epiphany with every undertaking in life is a worthy ambition. For most, if our souls are in tune, there are unique and powerful settings that reveal our epiphanies more often and vividly than others. For me personally, sitting quietly around a campfire after all others have turned in for the night is such a setting. While nestled into a camp chair listening to the lonely calls of coyotes and owls in the distance, the tuned-in soul stares into the low flame and glowing embers as the firelight casts dancing shadows across the camp perimeter and various pieces of life’s mysterious puzzle just seem to come together in the mind. There are personally unique revelations, lessons, and epiphanies waiting for each of us at the campfire, some are absorbed quickly while others take many years. The real trick is enjoying the wait – you simply have to be there to carry on the tradition, to be open to the experience, and to watch for a revelation, lesson, or epiphany to unfold.
From the time I was born our family always camped both by ourselves and with family friends. My first of many lessons at this age came from around the campfire observing the interaction of adult family and friends ranging from booming laughter to quiet reflection. I watched and learned how to socialize and enjoy the great outdoors through those observations. I heard stories of camping, hunting, and fishing trips past and through those stories I learned of my family’s outdoor history while sitting around the campfire. As a very young child those experiences were the foundation of my understanding that there was a heritage worth keeping alive.
From adolescence through young adulthood the campfire sessions morphed from basic social lessons to lessons and revelations about life itself. Basic social lessons derived from simple observations evolved into life revelations derived from personal interaction. Now I was part of the unfolding story around the fire. I began passing down stories and creating memories in my own rite. From the age of eight, deer camp at Ft. Leonard Wood was the pinnacle of my year. I spent every deer season camped with my father and his friends, each of whom eventually became my friends as well. It is a rite of passage when a boy gets to finally share the campfire with Dad and the other men. It is an experience a young soul never forgets. In addition to understanding there was a heritage to be kept alive, at this age I began to understand the bigger picture of Nature’s Economy and our charge to responsibly interact within nature’s intricate framework. I began to understand that all traditional interaction with nature provided for not only great recreational opportunities but also very real and serious lessons beyond recreation to be learned by a young and old alike.
Today, having finally attained middle age, I have reached the point in my life where I am able to confront my own mortality. While at the campfire late at night I am able to imagine the twilight of my own life on the distant (…hopefully) horizon. I realize the importance of keeping our heritage alive and I strongly endorse taking seriously the levity of human interaction with Mother Nature. These days the lessons and revelations materialize in terms of years as opposed to minutes; however the epiphanies and memories are now the mainstay of my campfire experiences. I have also come to understand it is not necessarily how much fur you trap, on what property you get to hunt, or the size of the game you harvest, rather, it is with whom you do it that matters most twenty years later. Those who were there for me years ago in my outdoor adventures, knowingly or not, left an impression of unimaginable value. I now ponder what mark I can leave to help others understand and value the relationship we, as humans, have as active participants in the fabric of life in Nature’s Economy.
For me, forty one years of campfires have now come and gone. For forty one years I have sought out the campfire’s counsel and comfort while sharing the fire with many family and friends, some of whom are now forever gone from this life. I have come to realize, unfortunately, that some epiphanies only manifest themselves after a loved one forever passes from the fire’s light, for their passing turns out to be an integral part of the revelation, lesson, or epiphany itself. It is one of life’s little ironies that, given the proper perspective, through loss a person actually grows in character and understanding. It is my belief that during the course of our lives each of us should strive to leave some gem of intellectual significance, upon our passing, for a surviving loved one or friend to discover as they reflect back while sitting at the fireside. To that end I owe a great debt of gratitude to my dad, Clifton, Alton, Jigs, Casey, and Barbara. In life we shared many campfires and created many memories. Late at night while sitting at the campfire I have spent many hours thinking of each of you. And, to each of your credits, many answers and much peace has come to me as a result of those memories. In no small way you have each provided understanding for me of the quote…”Yet you do not know what life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” That understanding has changed the way I cope with the challenges of life. I try not to sweat the small stuff and most of the difficulties associated with man’s economy are ‘the small stuff.’
There is an opportunity for each of us this deer season (Nov 14-24) while spending time at the campfire to introduce a child to Nature’s Economy. To provide a child an additional venue for discovering answers to many of life’s questions while interacting in Nature’s Economy is a unique experience that can set the stage for a lifetime of memories, revelations, lessons, and eventual epiphanies. I hope you seize the opportunity. It can turn into a gift beyond your wildest imagination. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.
From the time I was born our family always camped both by ourselves and with family friends. My first of many lessons at this age came from around the campfire observing the interaction of adult family and friends ranging from booming laughter to quiet reflection. I watched and learned how to socialize and enjoy the great outdoors through those observations. I heard stories of camping, hunting, and fishing trips past and through those stories I learned of my family’s outdoor history while sitting around the campfire. As a very young child those experiences were the foundation of my understanding that there was a heritage worth keeping alive.
From adolescence through young adulthood the campfire sessions morphed from basic social lessons to lessons and revelations about life itself. Basic social lessons derived from simple observations evolved into life revelations derived from personal interaction. Now I was part of the unfolding story around the fire. I began passing down stories and creating memories in my own rite. From the age of eight, deer camp at Ft. Leonard Wood was the pinnacle of my year. I spent every deer season camped with my father and his friends, each of whom eventually became my friends as well. It is a rite of passage when a boy gets to finally share the campfire with Dad and the other men. It is an experience a young soul never forgets. In addition to understanding there was a heritage to be kept alive, at this age I began to understand the bigger picture of Nature’s Economy and our charge to responsibly interact within nature’s intricate framework. I began to understand that all traditional interaction with nature provided for not only great recreational opportunities but also very real and serious lessons beyond recreation to be learned by a young and old alike.
Today, having finally attained middle age, I have reached the point in my life where I am able to confront my own mortality. While at the campfire late at night I am able to imagine the twilight of my own life on the distant (…hopefully) horizon. I realize the importance of keeping our heritage alive and I strongly endorse taking seriously the levity of human interaction with Mother Nature. These days the lessons and revelations materialize in terms of years as opposed to minutes; however the epiphanies and memories are now the mainstay of my campfire experiences. I have also come to understand it is not necessarily how much fur you trap, on what property you get to hunt, or the size of the game you harvest, rather, it is with whom you do it that matters most twenty years later. Those who were there for me years ago in my outdoor adventures, knowingly or not, left an impression of unimaginable value. I now ponder what mark I can leave to help others understand and value the relationship we, as humans, have as active participants in the fabric of life in Nature’s Economy.For me, forty one years of campfires have now come and gone. For forty one years I have sought out the campfire’s counsel and comfort while sharing the fire with many family and friends, some of whom are now forever gone from this life. I have come to realize, unfortunately, that some epiphanies only manifest themselves after a loved one forever passes from the fire’s light, for their passing turns out to be an integral part of the revelation, lesson, or epiphany itself. It is one of life’s little ironies that, given the proper perspective, through loss a person actually grows in character and understanding. It is my belief that during the course of our lives each of us should strive to leave some gem of intellectual significance, upon our passing, for a surviving loved one or friend to discover as they reflect back while sitting at the fireside. To that end I owe a great debt of gratitude to my dad, Clifton, Alton, Jigs, Casey, and Barbara. In life we shared many campfires and created many memories. Late at night while sitting at the campfire I have spent many hours thinking of each of you. And, to each of your credits, many answers and much peace has come to me as a result of those memories. In no small way you have each provided understanding for me of the quote…”Yet you do not know what life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” That understanding has changed the way I cope with the challenges of life. I try not to sweat the small stuff and most of the difficulties associated with man’s economy are ‘the small stuff.’
There is an opportunity for each of us this deer season (Nov 14-24) while spending time at the campfire to introduce a child to Nature’s Economy. To provide a child an additional venue for discovering answers to many of life’s questions while interacting in Nature’s Economy is a unique experience that can set the stage for a lifetime of memories, revelations, lessons, and eventual epiphanies. I hope you seize the opportunity. It can turn into a gift beyond your wildest imagination. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.
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