The success of failure

I just returned from an elk hunt without an elk. It is my first big-game draw tag to go unfilled. At first blush, tag soup doesn’t taste very good.

I am a firm believer in paying dues to get an animal. You scout, you drive, you walk, you glass. Early mornings, late nights, lots of miles. Eventually, the universe considers your dues paid and offers up an animal, or at least an opportunity. My opportunity came on Day 2 of the five-day hunt. I misjudged how the elk were behaving and called to them when I should have stayed silent. I never fired my muzzleloader.

I thought I would be devastated. But I find myself greatly at peace with it all. It is hard to be gone from your family and your other obligations for a week, but the time spent in the elk woods is never time wasted. And this one was extra special because my mom was with me. This is time we didn’t know we needed and time we can’t replace.

Time is a funny thing. When you have children, they tell you that nights go by slow and years go by fast. I am watching the years with my children fly by. My days fade into obligations, to-do lists, homework and spreadsheets.

But sitting under a tree, miles from any road, with the smell of wet juniper in the air and seeing every log, every shadow, every fluttering leaf as an elk feeding into a clearing (spoiler alert: no elk fed into any clearing), time slows down and you can really process the direction your life is going, and where the world is going.

Many of us get so wrapped up in our own universe that we forget to watch the world turn in its own, natural time. We forget to feel the ground under our feet, the wind in our hair, the sound of, well, nothing. When was the last time you can honestly say, you were outside and heard nothing? I highly recommend everyone give it a shot.

I saw a total of seven elk during my hunt, in a unit that I know holds a high population. I can cajole myself into blaming the weather, the time of year, the drought, hunting pressure, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.

I have much more to learn and the hit to my ego is actually welcomed. We all need to be humbled occasionally, and to have the elk woods do it to me is, frankly, an honor and a privilege. My life is such that I can spare a week to spend hiking mountains, chasing shadows. I would call that a pretty darn good life.

In two weeks, I will chase deer with my son. With success, I will be eternally grateful. But with similar failure, if it comes to that, I will be much more prepared to help him understand that the universe does not give up its gifts easily, that we must earn them, and be thankful for simply the opportunity to experience nature. Spending time together, away from spreadsheets and homework, is a success that we are fortunate to have built for ourselves. If I can teach my children to appreciate the journey and not just the destination – that is the true success.

Shawna Pfeiffer is a life-long Dona Ana County Resident, graduate of NMSU, small business owner, hobby farmer, dog-lover, outdoor enthusiast and mother to two young children. She can be reached at srpfeiffer1@gmail.com.