Tag: nature

After the Rain.

The pond is always clearest in the morning after a rain. As if the passing storms were somehow necessary to secure this amplitude of peace.

The ‘calm before the storm’, they always say. But, what of the moments following? The sound of nature breathing in, resigning itself to these patterns of earth. Knowing that our “infinite expectation of the dawn, does not forsake…even in our soundest sleep.”

Each day, we return to the sanctity of nature’s thriving beat; the sweet scented herb and the starry starry nights. Impervious to the threat of driving rains; just as in nature – we remain…

Our hearts ‘made better’ through this passing rain.

In peace…

Namaste ❤

The Lesson of the Yellow Rose

I spent the afternoon in my garden yesterday; tilling soil and contemplating the opportunity quite literally at hand.

Against the paled grey slats of the back garden fence, the yellow rose celebrated her climb. And bowing before the light that had served her, she cried – showering the earth with her satin tears.

Behind her, a Maple stretched offering the comfort of its ‘arms’ – the centuries old guardian knowing only too well this burden of loss.

It occurred to me that we often lack the trust; looking back to verify that which the eyes should plainly see – this present moment, unedited, absent the ‘frame’ of societal order.

Instead, we are lured by the incessant chatter and restlessness of mind.

Soon the gardens shall be full again, and these tests of faith nearly forgotten.

Though, these roots shall always remain…

In peace, my friends…

Namaste ❤

Between Witness and Mind.

It takes time to create a gap between the witness and the mind. The witness, always content to bask within awe – as the mind spins furiously to know reason and cause.

We may stop for a moment to admire the Peony’s emergence from seasoned rest, or the challenge of paled clover through frost covered fields.

Until we are lured by the bolder promises at hand.

We wish to understand awareness, yet submit to the appeal and ponderings of origin. In which case, when shall the mind ever know its rest? To feel a fullness marked only by the Willow’s weeping?

Can we not have one without all the rest? To find grace in the capture of a heron’s swooning.

And, bound by these moments serving to strengthen our pause. That in-between, gasping of breathless wonder.

How can we refute that which the heavens have deemed worthy?

A little something to consider, my loves…

In peace…

Namaste ❤

How We Find our Way.

“There is nothing more submissive and weak than water,” writes Lao Tzu. “Yet for attacking that which is hard and strong nothing can surpass it.”

Though seemingly simple in its approach, it shares with us a foundational teaching – likening the passage of water to the flow of human spirit.

Nature thrives through a complexity of paths. Some, man made; while others are more organically forged.

In the latter, nothing is forced in haste. Patience yields what the trowel can not. Even the mightiest of rivers will bend to suit the will of a greater flow. And in its path, a flourishing of life’s inherent capacity to persevere.

Just as the water, we must allow ourselves to be. And in this being, we too shall find our way.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️

Until Only the Mountain Remains.

I came across this lovely passage from the poet Ikkyu:

“Every day priests examine the dharma
And endlessly chant complicated sutras
Before doing that, they should learn
How to read the love letters sent by the wind and rain, the snow and the moon.”

In these few short words, the complexities of life are distilled. Angst, upset, willfulness and desire – silent before a near fleeting awe.

We find ourselves within this intimacy of nature; the stark contrast of White Birch against the grey of a wintered sky. And knowing, the cardinals will soon take their place within the advancing lush of the Magnolia bow.

Everything changes, my loves – a continuous unfolding of all into ‘one’. Culminating into the expansiveness of this single moment, in which the subtleties of impermanence yield a far greater value.

In this space, we are so much more than a mere passing of time. Rather, we are boldly uncommon manifestations of light.

“We sit together, the mountain and me,” writes Li Po, “Until only the mountain remains.”

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️

To Stand as Witness.

“Everything changes,” writes Ram Dass, “once we identify with being the witness to the story, instead of the actor in it.”

Yet, true observation can prove a difficult task as mind taxes spirit with the need to understand. We may a muse a bit with wonderment, though inevitably we’ll contemplate our place amongst this greater order of things.

But for a few fleeting moments where we find ourselves captivated by the depth of blue in an endless sky. Or, a child’s laughter lifting the burdens of day. Only then, may we finally begin to understand – the joy of standing witness to our own story’s unfolding.

Is it the need to explore which drives us? As a child, I’d spend hours looking for the perfect patch of ‘boot crunching’ ice – about a quarter inch over shallow puddle. But when I found it? Oh – that was bliss! The sound it delivered as the top crumpled in.

As children, we understand what it means to be enriched by observation. So much so, it compels our daily focus.

So, what has changed, my loves outside this passing of time? Are we not the same bundling of effervescent light? Radiating this blessing of Divine-gifted right? Bound by only role – to be inspired by greatness.

And, when we finally realize – my darlings, everything changes.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

The Place.

There’s a place not far from here; I know it well.

Where stillness lay upon a field of softened green, and the morning light ushers a peace within.

High atop the Red Maple, a songbird swoons; “look at the day, look at the day!” While below, the yellow orb spider toils delicately at her loom.

There’s a place not far from here; I know it well.

Where crystalline stream wraps the aimlessness of ‘root’, and the speckled fawn dare not challenge this fleeting grace.

Beyond the hills, a heron rests; captivated by the boundlessness of evergreen cast in mirrored ‘glass’.

Though the body may tire through wearied pace, rest assured…

The restless heart shall know its place.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

Who We Might Be.

Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh once wrote that our own life must serve as our ‘message’ — meaning that the truest essence of all that we are is carried forward through the grace of our actions.

And, the world is made better for it.

Think of the analogy of a tree: in its shade, the weary traveller rests, whilst high above its strong limbs secure the safety of future generations. And, not through any other means than ‘tree’ — stepping into the light of its fullest potential.

Irrespective of circumstance, our imprint is left. Whether by thoughtful phrase or concerted effort; our lives serve as testimony to the Divine within.

Be who you are, and that is enough.

No need to qualify, to measure, to extend beyond. No need to be a better version of that which already is…

This dance of life born to human form.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️

 

This Moment of Reflection.

I watched a little one playing ball today; his cheeks were flushed a fiery red and his hair, wild with adventure.

He was captivated simply by the thrill of living; his beads of sweat serving a measure of joy.

Absent to him were the troubles of world; of waging wars over differences of opinion.

In fact…

I’d venture a bet he was thinking merely of reward – a splash of cool water ‘straight from the hose.’

Nature shares its tidings through the grace of her simplicity; her light shining through us, as sunshine amidst the trees.

“This grand show is eternal,” shared adventurist John Muir. “It is always sunrise somewhere…each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.”

My darlings, on this day I wish you peace within each and every step, and the wisdom to reflect on the blessings of this world.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

A Miracle Upon the Cardinal’s Wings.

“Every day,” reminds Thich Nhat Hanh, “we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”
 
So often we miss those miracles through hurried glimpses. We forget to pause just long enough to appreciate the breaking light through the trees. We miss the cardinal’s crimson dress against the evergreen’s attending arms.
 
Gone before it’s ever discovered. And, yet?
 
The Universe never quits; she casts her hope upon every breeze. And, limited only by our willingness to believe.
 
Haven’t you experienced those moments, my loves — in which the delicate veil of illusion is lifted just long enough to see this world as new again?
 
Herein lies the miracle, my friends — a second chance upon the cardinal’s wings.
 
Namaste <3