The Coyote

This is a story about the time I came face to face with a coyote in Mammoth, and why it’s exactly what I needed in that moment.

A few winters ago, I went on a snowboarding trip with a group of half friends-half strangers, up to Mammoth Mountain in Northern California. It was my first time going to Mammoth and I was so excited to finally have the chance to snowboard there.

We drove up on the perfect weekend since we were right in the middle of a snowstorm. All that fresh powder and the magic of watching the snow fall was heaven on Earth for a snow lover like me. Overall, it was a pretty great weekend. I got 2 days of epic boarding and fun memories in with some friends.

We got A LOT of snow that weekend. As someone who grew up in upstate NY, I’m pretty used to snow, but I had never seen anything like this. There were walls of snow that piled 10-15 feet high. Our cabin was practically enclosed by a wall of snow. The pathways were carefully carved out and walking through them made me feel like I was in a true winter wonderland.

However, that weekend wasn’t all magic and fun. I was having a pretty tough time emotionally through it, and I was going through it alone. I never told anyone on the trip, but on my way up there I got news from my mother that my grandfather was on his way to the hospital. He was having a stroke. In fact, he was having multiple strokes. As someone who lives on the other side of the country from her family, times like these take an emotional toll on me. Bad news is never easy to hear, but I do think that being so far away can make it even more difficult.

I texted back and forth with my mom in the car ride up and tried to make light out of the situation at hand. After all, I was on my way up to a snow-covered cabin for a much-needed weekend off from work. The bad news was something I honestly didn’t want to have to deal with in that moment. I put on a brave face but deep down I was upset and a little scared. I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone in the car, so I said my prayers for him, asked to be kept in the loop, and tried to not let my emotions show.

For most of the weekend, I didn’t think much about it. I was pretty optimistic that things would turn out okay for my Papa. And they did. He’s still alive and well. But what wound up happening as the weekend progressed, was that I wasn’t able to keep my emotions bottled up and one night, while hanging out in the cabin with everyone, I had a total meltdown.

It started out as a relaxing evening. We were smoking and drinking and eating Thai food and having a good time. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, a wave of anxiety washed over me. I felt sick. I felt like the world was closing in. If you’ve read my blog post about my anxiety, then you know this is something I struggle with from time to time. The anxiety started to overwhelm me and I felt like I had to get out of there. I had to get away from everyone. So, I excused myself from the room and went outside.

It was cold out, but the cold didn’t bother me. In fact, I found it quite refreshing. I sat on the front porch and started to cry. I called a friend of mine for comfort. It was unknown to me at the time where the anxiety attack came from. Truthfully, it was a period of time where I was having weed-induced anxiety attacks so I figured that was it. But during my phone conversation, I remembered the news I had gotten about my grandfather and realized those unresolved emotions were forcing me to deal with them.

I can’t even tell you how long I spent outside on the front porch, in the cold, talking to my friend. I assume it was a while since one of the girls we were with eventually came down to check on me. Shortly thereafter, as I was still crying on the phone, beginning to calm down, the most unexpected thing happened. A coyote appeared.

It poked its head around the snowbank just a few feet in front of the porch and stared at me for a moment. I was startled. I gasped and said “Oh my God!” to my friend over the phone. My voice scared it so it withdrew behind the snowbank. “I think I just saw a coyote,” I said in disbelief.

Then, a few moments later, it poked it’s head back around and began to slowly approach me. It was timid and shy, not even the least bit aggressive. I didn’t feel threatened by it at all. We looked at each other in curiosity. I said “Holy crap. It is a coyote!” My friend shared in my shock and excitement.

I stood up. My movement scared it again and this time it took off down the street. I followed it out and watched it disappear in the dark. I started laughing. I thought it was the coolest thing. I had just come face to face with a coyote. And it approached me more like a domesticated dog than a vicious wild animal. Immediately, my spirits were lifted, and my anxiety began to melt away.

As someone who believes that animals can serve as a spiritual guide in times of need and that everything happens for a reason, I turned to sources to find out the meaning. A coyote is said to make its presence known when you feel like you have lost your way. They symbolize how to navigate through life in a purposeful and playful way. I like to think this is true of that moment. But whatever the reason, I needed that experience in that moment. I needed that coyote to come up to me and snap me out of my downward spiral. It was almost as if he came to say “Hey, it’s okay what you’re going through. Everything will be just fine.”