Rooted in Nature

Ancient Pine

“If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees. ”


~Rainer Maria Rilke

Can we live joyfully in harmony with nature?

Most modern city dwellers are completely out of touch with the cycles of nature.  And we have created such a long path between natural cause and effect, that it is difficult to see what we are doing to ourselves.  It is far from obvious to a suburban family that the water coming from their tap started out as rain or snowmelt flowing into a nearby reservoir.  The water flowing from their tap seems endless no matter what the weather does.

Most of us have no idea where the wheat was grown that made our morning bagel, much less if it was a good year or bad for the wheat crop.  Did river water diverted to a low reservoir near Denver hurt the wheat crop in Garden City?  The trail from cause to effect is so long that the average person has no idea what effect their actions have on the natural environment. And this disconnect is at the root of many modern problems.

We have become blind, deaf and dumb to our role in the natural world.

No matter how much we try to tame and “civilize” this world with all of our technical wizardry – and no matter how smart we think we have become – we are still animals governed by the laws of nature. And I wonder what is truly civilized about dishonoring and destroying the planet that feeds us?

Insulating and removing mankind from nature is not the answer; it is the problem! From disastrous weather changes like the recent floods and typhoons to radioactive pollution so toxic it will haunt our grandchildren for generations, we end up hurting ourselves every single time we choose to ignore the laws of nature.

The answer is to reconnect with the natural world.
The answer is to shut up and listen to Mother Nature.

I want to embrace and understand my natural connections. And I want to honor the beautiful and gracious mother that provides for me;  I want to pause and be grateful for the snowfall that becomes the water I drink.  I want to spy the first shoots of pale green prairie grass pushing up out of the spring earth, and remember that the cattle herd on the hill will consume them and turn them into food for me.  And I want to take the time to honor the trees that stand silent in the meadow and offer the oxygen I breathe.

I want to pause each day to acknowledge the many gifts Mother Nature provides for me.

☾ ☽

Thank you, Mother

Snowy Blessings

Winter Blessings
My Two Guides in Winter

May you awaken to the mystery of being here and
enter the quiet immensity of your own presence.
May you have joy and peace in the temple of your senses.
May you receive great encouragement when new frontiers beckon.
May you respond to the call of your gift and find the courage to follow its path.
May the flame of anger free you from falsity.
May warmth of heart keep your presence aflame
and may anxiety never linger about you.
May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of soul.
May you take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek no attention.
May you be consoled in the secret symmetry of your soul.
May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.

~ John O’Donohue ~

☾ ☽

I Am

Reflection
Reflections
Wonderland Lake  October, 2013

I Am

My bones are mountains.
My tears, rushing rivers.
The earth’s crust is my skin.
Trees adorn my head.

The sun, moon, and stars
Are in my eyes.
The ether of the Universe is my breath.
Separateness is an illusion.

I am all things and all things are me.

~Anya Phenix

Light Floats

Flatirons at Dawn

“There is a moment in every dawn when light floats,
there is the possibility of magic.
Creation holds its breath…”

~Douglas Adams,
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Image of Flatirons by Nancy L

Be Still

Stillness
Coot Lake by Nancy L

Keeping Quiet

by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

This one time upon the earth,
let’s not speak any language,
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.

The fishermen in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.

What I want shouldn’t be confused
with final inactivity:
life alone is what matters,
I want nothing to do with death.

If we weren’t unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,

if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.

Now I will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I’ll go.

 

Stillness

Still Pool
 

A huge thunderstorm brews just over the horizon as I take a wonder walk at Wonderland Lake.  Thunder rumbles on the ridge, yet the lake is still, perfectly still. Reflections of the foothills play on the surface of the water. The air is charged with magic potential.  My mind stills. I remember a passage from one of my favorite books: 

The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega.
It is God’s brooding over the face of the waters;
it is the blended note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings.”

~Annie Dillard, Teaching A Stone To Talk

In the stillness before the storm, this space is alive with joy. Mother Nature shares her wisdom, whenever I remember to pause and listen.

Be Still.  
Stillness reveals the secrets of eternity.  

~Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Seeds of Possibility

Seed Tree

I take an early morning walk; it is already promising to be a hot day. But here by the St. Vrain river, it is still cool and juicy and green.  The dog and I wander down the river trail  and I begin to see seeds everywhere… Seeds dangle above me, below me, in front of me. Seeds on grass stalks, trees ripe with seed, every weed flowering and throwing off seeds in the wind.  Every plant seems to be going to seed right before my eyes.

Seeds symbolize potential for me; each seed is a tiny, little pocket of possibility. From a biological perspective, seeds actually hold the blueprint for all of creation on planet earth. EVERY bit of life here starts with seed; seeds are the source of all the plants in the ocean and on land. And every animal on earth, including you and me, began from a tiny fertilized ovum seed.

After decades of gardening, I am still amazed each time I witness life forming from a seed; I plant tiny black seeds the size of pepper grains in my garden, and within weeks, tiny seedlings sprout and transform into big heads of yummy green lettuce. Nature orchestrates a miraculous transformation from seed potential to juicy plant reality in just a few short weeks.

“You couldn’t hardly believe there was life in them tiny things,
some no bigger than grains of dust, let alone colour and scent,
if you hadn’t seen the miracle, could you?”  
~L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

One tiny plant seed, combined with a little water and sunlight, will grow into a cottonwood tree or a clump of grass. Or maybe even an entire meadow full of blooms.  The creative possibilities from one seed are staggering. Every single little seed holds magical possibilities. And Mother Nature is obviously a gifted magician.

I walk by the river, spying seeds at every turn.  It is as though nature is teasing and taunting me with the abundant possibilities of life.  The sight of seeds dangling from every tree, bush and grass stalk is so outrageously over the top that I cannot help but smile at all this abundance. And it is just the message I need today; I’ve been working on a book for months, struggling to create a structure that will hold the ideas that want to burst forth onto paper. But this particular piece of writing is as slippery and elusive as an eel, slithering away each time I think I’ve finally got it pinned down.

I have been trying to grab this elusive book and hold it still so I can define it, but it defies all my efforts at solid definition. This particular book creation seems to thrive on chaos and confusion.  And the final shape of this book is not remotely in sight yet.  I find that I am a bit fearful of not having any sense of where this book and I are going to end up. Like most writers and artists, I love to pretend that I am in control of my creative process – even when I know in my heart that I’m not!  When I am honest with myself, I admit that my husband’s view of my writing being some type of mysterious, organic secretion process is actually more accurate!

But here, on the river path this morning, I look around and see how Nature is absolutely pouring her creative juices into a future that can’t yet be seen. Mother Nature doesn’t sit and whine about not being able to predict the final shape of her creative efforts; she doesn’t refuse to proceed with seed production until the future is defined and absolutely known.  Mother Nature just creates. And keeps creating. I believe she creates just for the sheer joy of creating.

I look around at all of Mother Nature’s creations and I remember that creativity is more about allowing than controlling. My attempts at control usually end up killing my creative flow. Creativity LOVES freedom and unconfined spaces. And my own writing moves into a magical space when I stop worrying about the final outcome, and just open up and allow the flow of ideas, the flow of words to come out in whatever form they choose to take today.  The final product will take care of itself if I can relax and breathe, and just follow today’s flow. Relax and allow the words to flow without trying to clamp down and judge them or filter them or manipulate them.

I breathe in the sights and scents of Mother Nature’s creative abundance. I breathe and feel myself relax. Like every seed on my path today, this elusive book knows what it wants to become, even if it won’t reveal itself to me yet.  My job is to allow it to flow out into the light of day and to water it with my loving attention.

I wonder if I can relax and enjoy watching this book shift and grow from week to week? Can I embrace this little shape-shifter instead of fighting its process?  I wonder if I can learn to revel in all the possibilities that this seed of a book contains?

“It is a denial of the divinity within us
to doubt our potential and our possibilities.”  
~Faust

Seed Tree II