Spirit Wind

Shell Beach along Tamalas Bay in the Point Reyes National Seashore

The Wind is Very Awake and Listening to Everything we Think

Many years ago before I ever dreamed to moving to Marin, I took a trip to the Point Reyes National Seashore.

It was my idea to get away for a while and rejuvenate – it was my way providing myself with some time for reflection on what I was thankful for this year.

It was my idea to go on a hike into an area I had not been before. A woman where I was staying overnight suggested I try hiking an old Miwok Indian trail that skirted several beaches along Tamales Bay.

I was intrigued by her suggestion, so I set off the next morning to find the trail. It was easy enough to find. And 10 minutes into the hike, I thought I was doing very well when I found the first beach, called Shell Beach. I continued on my journey to another beach. This was called Sunset. That was the last beach I found along my journey, because after scouting the trail for another 30 minutes, I found myself a little lost. Not lost without an idea as to how to go back the way I came. But lost in that there were a few different choices in how to proceed on the trail going forward – and I seemed to keep making the wrong choices as I was moving farther away from the beaches and where I hoped to go.

So, in my quandary, I decided to sit down for a few minutes. I found a fallen log whose roots were upturned along the trail I was on – and the rest of the trunk lay out in an otherwise open circle lined by tall coastal redwood trees and dense ferns and other greenery.

I sat down for a moment, drank some water and began peeling a tangerine when all of a sudden I heard a rusting in the bushes over my right shoulder. At first, I thought it might be a small animal – but then the rustling noise and movement of leaves expanded to perhaps 6 inches across. It sounded like it was building momentum. That’s when it hit me. A burst of Wind. It was the most unusual experience I’d ever had with Wind. Instead of blowing like a wall from a certain direction, it acted more like a funnel – touching some areas of the clearing but not others. And it snaked in this manner past me and down below to the beach that I could not find out how to hike down to. The Wind had come in to the clearing, brushed passed me and then continued on its own journey as if it had some sort of intelligence about it’s purpose. It was completely gone as quickly as it came.

Now, in indigenous to this region of California, I have read stories about how the Tribal Teachers always taught the children of their Tribe to feel the Wind so that – they would know what to do if ever they became lost or afraid while in the woods.

The Tribal Elders would teach,

If the wind blew from the West, the child should sit and look inside their hearts for courage or an answer.
If Wind came from the south, the child should stop pretending to know all the answers and find humility, perhaps listening to another child who knew the way home.
If Wind came from the East, the children were to use their good sense or logical ideas that would bring an answer to their predicament.
If Wind came from the North, the children would know that the Elders, in their wisdom, knew where to look for them.

And, If Wind caught them in a whirlpool of motion, they were told to wait until help arrived.

Turns out the wind at Point Reyes was blowing from the West, and indeed I had gone there to look inside my heart. I did not know I needed courage, but I knew I needed some direction.

Perhaps it’s worth asking yourself what way the wind is blowing today?