Herrre LizardLizardLizardLizard

I’ve always had a thing for lizards. Not that I’m particularly into Herpetology or anything; I just always likened myself to a lizard. I had a pet Iguana when I was younger because, at the time, I thought that was the type of lizard I was into. It seemed to me, if you had an interest in an animal the thing to do was get one for a pet and see how long you can keep it alive. Right? While I’m ashamed to admit it, and my iguana did last a good number of years, it was neglect that was the ultimate demise of my poor Iggy. Way before my adoption of Iggy, the picture of the lizard that my mind’s eye likened me to was not an iguana. It was more the type of lizard that I later got a tattoo of. Since the tattoo, over four years ago, I identify the lizard more of a Salamander than an Iguana.

After I had gotten the tattoo, a friend had asked me why I had chosen this lizard. I stumbled for an answer. I started with something along the lines of ‘I feel like I am the lizard.’ I then added something about being low and meek and content having fun in the mud. Basically, I totally FUBARed my explanation. How could I have gotten such a permanent mark put on my body without being able to explain it!

In my previous posts I have written about feelings. In a way this blog is about me sharing my feelings. For a long time I have felt a sort of camaraderie with this lizard that I can’t really explain. I had thought about getting a tattoo of it for a while. The opportunity presented itself and in the midst of the stock artwork was my lizard. It felt right. I just did it. That night was a great night spent with my closest and greatest friends. It was the rehearsal dinner for my wedding. That night the groom-to-be, the bride-to-be and the Maid of Honor each waited their turn to have their mark of choice permanently applied to their bodies. Now, the others present might say it was the liberal application of Italy’s very finely crafted wines or the expertly masterminded tongue of the Best Man that got everyone but him under the artist’s needle. While that might have some small part in it, for me it was less of a whim.

The question, though, still remains mostly unanswered. Why this lizard?

The quick answer is, 'I felt like it'. I still can’t really explain it though. There is something about being that attached to the earth; to the land and water. My wife and I used to go on weekend backpacking trips. I loved the sole purposefulness of just walking, carrying what we needed on our backs. I'd put distance between life’s busyness and myself. The deeper I got into the woods, the closer I felt to creation - in fact, also the more I felt a part of it. Tracy and I used to enjoy hiking small portions of the Appalachian Trail (the AT). As we walked, she read the trail guides and I made use of our compass and topo maps. I made fun of her for liking the trail guides that used flowery language and had sidebar stories. I wanted to be open to the ‘story’ as it unfolded before my eyes and scoffed at the idea of coming out all this way and having my nose in a guide book telling me what I should be experiencing. As we were walking one day she began reading about a certain salamander that lived at a certain section of the trail. Lo and behold the little guys’ were there as she was reading those words. I don’t remember the portion of the AT nor the exact type of salamander, but this was a resonating moment for me. I was struck by the beauty of noticing these salamanders go on about their lives when I just as easily could have walked right past, or even worse, stepped right on them. They were doing their thing just as the lilies of the field do what they were created to do (nothing more, nothing less). I remember thinking how small they were in the comparison to our hiking route and how we had come upon them just as Tracy was reading about them. I thought about how it could have been easy to miss them and about how there was a world of people outside of the AT that would not even get a chance to bear witness to my little friends’ existence. Later I had thought about my existence and its being small in relation to all of creation. How like the salamander's feet in the mud (earth and water) gravity keeps my feet on the ground; in the same mud. In terms of infinity and eternity the difference between the salamander's small and my small is insignificant; nill. I have my place and purpose in creation. The lizard in my tattoo, his feet are on the ground. He is climbing, not straight up, but up none the less. If he knew exactly where he was going his body might not be bent as it is. His contortion and wide eyes show a search and his arms are reaching. I am the Lizard feeling my way along the path to You. Sometimes I’ve clawed, scratched and clung in the dark. Help me to see and trust in Your divine guidance.