Brunansky's Blog

I’ve got my coffee. Have you got yours?
It’s time to look at life, spring cleaning and the corona virus.

The other day I was almost bit by a rattlesnake. I was out in the middle of the desert on a 10+ mile hike. I tend to hike primarily alone, although, most of the mountains I walk are fairly populated with other hikers. This particular time, I was completely alone. The hike is a “switchback” which means that it is not a loop that takes you around a mountain. You simply walk to a point where the trail ends and then turn around and walk back the same way you came. All in all, the trail reads a little over 10 miles. It was on the way back that I encountered the slithering desert dweller. Anyone who knows me knows that I, like Indiana Jones, am not a fan of snakes. So, to be alone in the middle of the desert with a venomous predator like a rattlesnake was not ideal. In fact, it was one of the scariest moments of my life (of which there have been quiet a few).

My father was asking me about the hike and I told him that being alone with that snake is easily high on the ranking chart for my life. In fact, I would place that moment right up there with my trip to South Africa. In South Africa, I was part of my buddies wedding party. After the wedding ceremony we jumped into jeeps (still finely dressed) and took off into the wild for a photo shoot. We reached a lake where the photographer instructed us to stand facing away from the lake and to keep an eye on our drivers. If the drivers run, we are to run. It turned out the lake was full of crocodiles. In short, we’re taking wedding photo’s with our backs to crocodiles. It was the scariest photo shoot of my life. The wedding was beautiful by the way. Here’s an image of the ceremony. I’m on the far left, clean shaving and slightly intoxicated. They had an open bar. Don’t judge me.

Experiences like what I encountered in the desert and South Africa do one thing very well. They spring clean you. Once the threat is removed, and all the wonderful natural chemicals in your body stabilize, your mind refocuses. Like a camera shifting focus, what was blurry becomes clear.  I have never crossed paths with a large snake before my hike. The normal snakes that slither across the hiking trails are 12 inches or less in length and small in circumference. They are not intimidating in the least. This rattler was big. I would guess several feet in length and its circumference was considerable. The single fact that I was close enough to be bit and poisoned, alone, in the middle of the desert, was enough to make me think. However, like I stated earlier, this encounter was on the way back. There were still miles to go. The hike is a combination of flat land, and brush. The height of the brush ranged from the ground to my ankle, up to my thigh. So now there was this knowledge that since I’ve seen one giant killer snake on the trail, I could easily see another. The next time, it could be hiding in the tall grass. With miles still to hike, I pressed on with increased awareness fueled by adrenaline.

If you’re old enough to remember dial radio, you remember all the white noise as you turned the knob from left to right trying to find the signal to hear your favorite stations. There was a wash of distorted sound and then, like a miracle, a song would be audible and you slowly adjusted the dial until it was crystal clear. And for me, I realize I’m in a fine tuning adjustment stage. For most people, with the “Corona Virus” it feels like the world is still awash with sound looking for a clear signal that says, here’s what you’re looking for. You drive around and stores are closed. People are out of work. Store shelves are ravaged for goods which leaves the aisles looking similar to apocalyptic movies. And yet, interestingly, everyone I say hello to says hello back. You would think that in a state of distress such as is described by the governments and media people would be lighting their hair on fire and chugging old milk from cartons as they run naked down the street wearing nothing but an old used tire, screaming incoherently that we’re in the end times. But no, everyone smiles and says hello. It’s remarkable.

If you’re one of the people who is searching for a signal that says everything will be fine. You’re on the right path. You’re searching. You are doing something. I don’t know what you will find that tells you, in the manner you need, that everything will be alright. My hope for you is that it isn’t the government. They seem just as lost if not more so than the rest of us which is an entirely different topic… I digress. For me, it was the sound of a rattle and the head of a killer snake popping up. How is that comforting you might be wondering? It didn’t bite me. It informed me. The rattle and the head of the snake told me, in its own unique way, there is danger here and you have milliseconds to decide, stay for my lunch or live to go get your own. Sometimes these pandemics or near death experiences are a wake up call. The stuff that pollutes our minds makes our focus go blurry. We aren’t able to focus on what truly matters. My late grandfather (who lived through “The Depression” and a WW2 Navy Veteran) used to ask me when the women of the family would be loud in the kitchen, “What’s all the noise about, Jeremy?” Then, he’d turn on a golf game, sit in his chair, smile at me and we’d watch golf. I always interpreted that as his way of saying, this is just noise that we don’t need to stress over. I have learned a lot of valuable lessons from the men and women in my family. And if I can offer you anything today in my writing, it is this. My grandfather chose to focus on a golf game during those particular moments. For everything else, he had his spiritual beliefs and religion. My father, when dealing with criminals who wanted to kill him (he was a cop and Air Force veteran), had his faith and religion. Both of these men were able to find their focus points in trying times. And we can too. Heck, you might be sitting next to someone right now that would love more of your focus and attention, or vice versa!

In closing, the next time life seems to get away from you (or me), maybe we can ask, just like my grandfather, “What’s all the noise about?” and then find our focus to keep smiling through all the noise.

Cheers, everyone!

-JB