Attuning to the Pace of Nature
I come to nature alone most often. It is how I recharge, empty out, and become full again with my own connection to self and earth. It is where I find inspiration, the sources for all of my creations in the world. The birthplace of all that I teach and share.
Often when I arrive, I have a sense of urgency in my body. A sense of needing to get something done, or that I don’t have enough time. Sometimes it’s right in the surface, other times it’s more subtle. But it is a sense that creeps in over time, born out of living in a capitalistic and patriarchal culture.
Born out of our culture’s unhealthy addiction to spring and summer on the wheel of the year, to progress and achievement. Born out of our frantic pace that’s somehow considered normal and ok. A pace that has never been ok for my nervous system (and most nervous systems I know), and for a body who appreciates and honors the full cycle of life and creation, not just forward momentum.
So I sit with the trees. With the water. With the breeze moving through the leaves. With the damp earth. With the ants and the spiders, the song of birds. I sit and attune to their pace. I sit until any last remnants of urgency slip out of my body and into the ground beneath me.
These moments remind my body of where I’m from. Of who I am at my core. They help my body remember that it’s ok to just be. That I don’t need anything outside of myself to feel or be whole. I can feel the blessing of simply being alive and aligned with every sense in my body.
It is my prayer for all of us to live from this place again. To live from centered connection. From wholeness and belonging. To remember the nature of our interbeing.
I invite you to find a place in nature today. Out of the city, inside the city, in your yard, in a park, watching a bee caress a flower. Anything that draws you into the pace of the natural world. Sit here for a time. Until you feel your body soften, your breath elongate, and your senses align.