The Power In Grace
Last week, I received a mysterious package.There were no labels, no return address, no invoice, no note. Not one clue. After slicing the packing tape and unfurling the protective plastic wrap, a framed photograph appeared. Behind the glass, a pair of giraffes seemingly nuzzling or kissing, stared back at me. I trolled through my emails to locate an order confirmation that perhaps I forgot about after a glass of wine or online shopping during the wee hours of the morning. Nothing. I remembered donating to a giraffe conservation months ago, perhaps it was a holiday gift from them, but this seemed extravagant for the mere $100.00 I donated. Consumed with identifying the sender, I hadn’t taken any time to study the photograph. I gazed at the magnificent spotted animals. The corners of my lips rose and I inhaled a cleansing breath. A serenity relaxed my shoulders. Quite simply, I love giraffes. As any successful overthinker, I examined the picture, and asked myself, why am I so drawn to these creatures?
It’s a little known fact that at the Bronx zoo, when winter temperatures cast a shiver over the boroughs, the giraffes are relocated indoors. Their native home of Africa provides a vastly different climate and New York winters are no place for a giraffe. The Carter Giraffe Building allows for a unique, up close and personal interaction with these massive and majestic creatures. They certainly are humongous, but up close, they don’t fill up space with heft like a rhino or polar bear. Viewing them inside feels as though you can reach out and glide your hand across their spotted coat. They are towering, yet quiet and relaxed. I try to visit my giraffes in the winter because I am captivated by the feeling of awe, and amazement they provide for me. In the company of giraffes I am reminded of the vast and bewildering world we live in, and while those thoughts could overwhelm me, somehow their message is peaceful.
One of the most striking features on a giraffe are the patterns on their fur which are as unique as a human fingerprint. Another unknown fact is that giraffes have huge hearts, I mean literally, a physically massive heart. A typical giraffe’s heart measures twenty-four inches across and weighs twenty-five pounds. These animals need an enormous heart to pump blood up their far reaching neck. In fact a giraffe’s blood pressure is double that of an average human. How’s that for some Jeopardy trivia. Giraffe’s carry themselves with grace, and dignity whether they are on the plains of Africa or in the relatively small pavilion in the Bronx. In their natural habitat their height allows them to see far across the landscape, like no other animal. Although birds have an excellent aerial view, they are often in motion while a giraffe is steady on land. Interestingly, the Scientific name for a giraffe is, Giraffa Camelopardalis. Translation; camel wearing a leopard coat. When I read this, I realized my kinship with giraffes. I acknowledge that I cloaked my true self for many years. I wore a leopard coat, so to speak, but the flash of the leopard was never my comfort zone. The dependability of a trusty camel was more appropriate for me. Maybe this is why I am drawn to the giraffe. I continued to research for more facts that could point to my connection with them.
The giraffe’s predators are primarily lions and hyenas. I can respect the lion and it’s valour in hunting, but the hyenas, they’re a farce. Lions are skilled, regal and have earned the title of hunter and do so with dignity. Hyenas hunt giraffes using a method called coursing. They chase their victim for miles until their prey reaches the point of exhaustion. I imagined a lone giraffe galloping across an African plain, statuesque and elegant until her pace slowed from the chase, soon to be lifeless amongst the scrappy dogs. I wiped the tear that bubbled in my eye. I sighed as I understood the plight of a giraffe hunted by barbaric hyenas. For years, I ran until exhaustion, ultimately succumbing to keep a peaceful house. I was on the verge of exhaustion throughout my divorce, chased and cornered at every turn. By then, I was acutely aware of what the hunt looked like and how it would end if I didn’t run faster and further than the dogs that chased me. Like my friend the giraffe, my vantage point was now from high above the ground, and at great distance. This time, I could clearly see the blitz, and I was prepared for it. Hyenas are notorious thieves and predators spend their lives fending off hyenas who steal kills from other animals, taking advantage of a true hunter’s hard work. I know from thieves. I know their tactics.
A giraffe’s only defense is a hard and swift kick from their colossal hooves that can break the back of a lion. Break a lion’s back? Whoa. The giraffe has no sharp teeth, no record speed to compete on an open landscape, no roar or cackle to intimidate, yet she can break a lion’s back. Faced with the fiercest animal on the planet, literally, the most feared in the wild, she can hold her own. A tickle from the hair crawling up my forearm reminded me that power and strength don’t always prevail. Grace, dignity and far reaching vision can stage a moment of retribution that won’t be forgotten by the opponent.
I understand why giraffes resonate with me. I now know what I see in them and how they inspire me to stay the course. I’ve endured a version of a hunted giraffe that no human should ever have to understand, but thankfully that swift kick from a hoof the size of a dinner plate was all I needed to reclaim my boundaries, set myself free, and watch another stunning sunrise across the vast landscape of life, free from the coursing hyenas.
