Whiskey Papa Collections: Blog https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog en-us (C) Whiskey Papa Collections (Whiskey Papa Collections) Mon, 25 Jan 2021 21:39:00 GMT Mon, 25 Jan 2021 21:39:00 GMT https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/img/s/v-12/u678903452-o945295620-50.jpg Whiskey Papa Collections: Blog https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog 120 80 Mornings Like This https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2019/10/mornings-like-this As the moon crests the ridge I was nearly  asleep.  It fills the basin in a grey and chilly light. Casting deep and mysterious shadows. The dark old snags reflect an eerie glow, skeletons of former giants lost in summer fires, now stark in their silence against the moonlit sky.  I set my grandpa's old film camera on a rock, line up the shot, and use the timer to engage the shutter.  It looks like a good shot, but with film you just have to wait and see. Satisfied, I lay down and gaze into the night, and at some point my eyes close and I drift off. I sleep well, deep and restful, even in the bright moonlight. As first light barely starts to show, I rise and take my wool blanket down to the shoreline, and sit. I hear sticks breaking in the distance, and rocks shifting up high along the ridge. The deer and elk I assume, moving back up into the trees after their early morning drink.  From across the lake my eyes catch something subtle, a creature maybe, moving deafly in the grass. Its movement is even and fluid, and in the dim light it is difficult to follow. In one subtle motion it glides up atop of a downed tree, then off onto the ground again, whilst neither slowing, nor making a sound that I can hear.  It moves like water flowing, easily and effortless.  Its ghost-like, disappearing and re-appearing, nearly invisible in the tall grass.  And then, in an instant, its gone…the moment lasts a lifetime. I feel some buried part of me stir, some wild power in the deep. The awareness is intoxicating, and I feel a wholeness that feels new, and very, very old. Like remembering something long forgotten. If life consisted more of mornings like this one, who only knows? 

-Morning 34 of a 6 week solo survival trip in the Marble Mountains
 

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(Whiskey Papa Collections) alpine nature solitude solo wilderness https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2019/10/mornings-like-this Sun, 06 Oct 2019 18:23:23 GMT
When the Wolves Come Home https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2018/11/when-the-wolves-come-home When you take a bunch of dogs and train them to be wolves, they'll never be good dogs again. They are wolves. There is no going backward, no becoming less than what you are. There is no regression. There is only the journey ongoing, the movement forward. And yet, when the wolves can begin to distinguish when to bite (because sometimes we need to) and when life calls for another path, then the warriors become more than just fighters, they become protectors. This is how a wolf truly becomes an Alpha, not because they bite the most or even the hardest, but because they live and lead in a way that protects and empowers life, even when the choices are not easy. This is why the pack follows. They follow what supports life. It's not easy being a wolf in a dog's world, but if the wolves can learn to become protectors of life, then the dogs are all the safer because the wolves are there. Here's to the wolves, and to the wisdom and power of our choices.

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(Whiskey Papa Collections) evolution guardians homecoming marines protectors veterans wildness wolves https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2018/11/when-the-wolves-come-home Tue, 06 Nov 2018 18:49:36 GMT
Book Preview; The Elk and I https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2015/4/book-preview-the-elk-and-i Book Preview

‘The Elk and I; Thirty Days Along the Sun

Day 15

They are everywhere. A hundred at least, maybe more. It is madness. Is there anything quite as wild as a massive elk herd in the rut? The cows parading, and bulls with their siren like bugle. It's like a war cry. Amidst the chaos I hear it, over and over. That primal cry. I feel it consume my senses. This last cry, however, is beyond the rest. The herd bull, no doubt, and much closer than I thought, moving through the trees behind me. On all sides the elk are running, dancing, snorting, screaming.  It is wildness and mayhem. My inner world feels afire, somehow akin theirs. Their madness, their rawness, their passion, their insanity, their freedom. I have never felt so fully alive. And then he's there, walking slowly out from the trees behind me. Too close. From only yards away, he looks at me, his eyes wild and full of passion. I feel him, his presence, his power, his insanity, and his purity. It is all but overwhelming. By all means he should have charged me, or spooked and bolted. Instead, he just stands there, his mad eyes locked into mine. He sees into me, going deeper than I have dared to travel, and he takes me with him. And in this, somehow, our spirits seem to touch, this elk and I, and we are one. In those moments everything I think I am evaporates, and all thats left is all we are. Everything, the only thing, the no-thing. For an immeasurable amount of time we stand there, but we are not really there, we are everywhere, in everything, together and alone, for forever and just a moment. Dancing in the stillness. And then the moments shifts and we are back, eyes on one another. He lowers his head and turns, and his eyes let go of mine. As he trots down to join the frenzy of the herd, I stand there still, and watch him go, thoughtless in my feelings. Amidst the mayhem I slip beyond the meadow through a grove of aspen trees, and walk to a silent place. I gaze out over the valley below. Dusk now. My heart is soaring, my feet rooted deeply, and I have never felt so happy, or so sad. I feel tears flooding down my face, and I choke a little on my breath. My chest heaves and heaves, and something washes out. Then I just sit, trembling and alive. I rest my head in my hands and sob, and breathe. The twilight begins to fade. From the valley below a wolf begins to howl, and then another, and another. These songs speak to a different listening. Home, they say. Welcome home. How could I have forgotten?

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(Whiskey Papa Collections) earth elk howl humanity journey montana nature wild wilderness wolf https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2015/4/book-preview-the-elk-and-i Mon, 20 Apr 2015 22:27:31 GMT
Warrior to Warrior https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2015/3/warrior-to-warrior  

Warrior to Warrior

 

Will you stand amidst the storm with me

When the wind and rain are all about you?

Will you stand amidst the fire with me

When the flames are licking at your face?

Will you stand your ground and hold the line with me

When the odds are all against us?

Will you charge and fight and bleed with me

When there is no other choice?

And when the battle is fought and the war is over 

Will you grieve and rest and rise with me

As we make the long way home?

And if again we are called upon

Will you do this all again? 

 

 

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(Whiskey Papa Collections) goodness human nature truth warrior https://www.whiskeypapacollections.com/blog/2015/3/warrior-to-warrior Wed, 25 Mar 2015 06:10:53 GMT