“When I was 16 I was out hunting deer with my boyfriend. I left him and walked down a canyon; this is in the very isolated Colorado mountains. Suddenly I felt the ground vibrate and heard thunder. I turned around and a huge herd of elk was stampeding toward me. I walked to the edge of the canyon behind a tree and watched. Suddenly, one of the cow elk broke from the herd and started to run right at me. I didn’t think she could see me behind the tree, but she kept getting closer and closer. I hit the ground sitting and aiming my rifle at her… I wasn’t hunting elk but I had to protect myself (in case) she was going to attack me. I held my breath, closed my eyes tight, put my finger on the trigger and began to squeeze.

I didn’t shoot. Suddenly it was silent but I knew that I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes and the elk was almost on top of me. It was like the earth stopped spinning and was on pause. I looked at her, the steam coming from her mouth and her kind eyes. I don’t know how long we just stared at each other it was timeless. Then she reared and headed back in the direction the herd went. That day we both chose not to kill each other. I became a vegetarian for over twenty years and never hunted again.

This was the moment that I started questioning everything, this moment shaped my entire life. This moment was sacred.

This was the moment I became a mystic.”

— Terri Horton