“In the Ute Language nawa (with two dots over the a’s) means ‘together’, something that is shared. This concept of unity is not just the unity of people, it includes everything, the land, the vegetation, and the animals.”
~ Johnny Taylor Valdez
Big horn sheep illustration by Jay Sullivan.
This is a story of nawa. Friends are nawa. They are shared. I have a friend whose name is Bill. Recently I spent a couple of days with Bill at his home in Nederland. Bill’s wife is Cheryl. She is a warm, friendly and eclectic person. When she welcomed my wife Kaye and me into her and Bill’s home she said “Our home is eclectic. I hope you like it. It fits us.” And it does.
One morning Bill asked if I would like to go for a walk with him. Of course, a walk is welcome. As Bill took me around his place, he told me of how he got Cheryl to buy additional land around his home so that they would have a buffer before they were married. He told me how he hired Nepalese mountain guides to build a trail around the rocks and the Carin that marks the high point of his trail. He called our walk “wilderness therapy.” Without a doubt “Wilderness Therapy” gives Bill a wonderfully positive outlook on life. It is a joy to know that Bill engages in his wilderness therapy every day. He hugs the mountains!
We talked of travel and while running down the road from one place to the next it is important to take time to enjoy random moments of wilderness therapy. Don’t just drive by. Stop and enjoy where you are.
Kaye and I decided to travel home a day early as winter weather was predicted for the mountain passes. As we were driving past Georgetown, we noticed that the Big Horn sheep were near the dirt road that ran along the base of the mountain. We decided to take a moment of wilderness therapy and see if we could get close enough for a picture. So, we took the Georgetown exit and turned onto the dirt road to the right. Kaye said that I should stop and get my camera ready. I put on the long lens for the good shots. We then went toward the sheep. About half a mile in, two snowplows blocked the road. It didn’t look like we could go on. The temptation was to turn around and go back. But we had been thinking about healing communication and the positive potential that the language of togetherness could have.
The snowplows had “City of Georgetown” on the doors. They were waiting for the snow to fall. I walked up the road and stood between the snowplows. With a grin, I said, “It will snow tomorrow. You guys are ready.” Then I said that I wanted to go on up the road and see if I could get some photos of the sheep at the end of the road. The driver of the plow sitting in the middle of the road said, “OK. We will let you do that. Give me a minute to back off the road for you.” He backed up and we drove on.
Wild things are skittish. Driving a Chevy into a herd of Big Horns will scatter them and they will run off. So we pulled up short. I left the engine running as the Big Horns ran up the side of the mountain. But we didn’t rush forward. We sat with the engine running about a hundred yards from the sheep. After a little while they decided we were not a threat. And soon they started grazing in our direction. Nawa. We are a part of them. I took my foot off the brake, and we slowly moved closer. Then I stopped the put the Chevy in park and turned off the engine. Within minutes the sheep had us surrounded. I rolled down the window and took about 200 photos from just a few feet away.
The light was fading as shadows filled the mountain valleys. It was time to go. Our wilderness therapy session was ending. Kaye and I both feel great at having taken the time to belong to this wilderness moment. The snowplows sat blocking the road once again. We pulled up to them and I got out and thanked them for sharing their sheep with us. I also gave them my business card with the drawing of the elk on it and said that the reason for wanting the pictures was to do some Big Horn drawings. They were very positive in their comments and wanted to know if I had any black bear drawings. The driver’s wife wanted Black Bear art because they are in the area. One of the other plow men told me to drive around Georgetown. He told me he had a picture of a “full curl” Big Horn right under the main street sign. The sheep belong to the town. Nawa, they are a part of the community. There is pride in belonging to this wild place where wild, stately, Big Horn Sheep roam Main Street.
Nawa is a state of being whole with everything that surrounds you. As we drove away, I thought that Johnny Taylor Valdez would like the pictures of the Big Horns too. The circle of belonging extends beyond the reach of your arms to include all, even those who are not there at that moment. When we include others in our thoughts, we expand our universe in inclusive ways. From friends to snowplow drivers and beyond, while we are engaged in wilderness therapy we receive joy, and in receiving joy we give the gift of joy to others. Conscious thought brings us together in positive ways. It is a simple matter of choosing words that heal rather than those that hurt.
BY JOHNNY TAYLOR VALDEZ AND JAY SULLIVAN
Submitted to the Herald