Tag: Earth

Seasonal Changes, Inner and Outer

It’s October and blue jays are flying past our windows again, calling loudly. We moved into our condo one year ago, and it took us a couple of weeks to figure out why so many blue jays were flying by: They were gathering acorns from the nearby oak trees to store for the winter! I’ve been around blue jays all my life, but I never knew they did that until now. It just shows how you learn new things wherever you go and at different times in your life. Your awareness expands….

For instance, I seem to be more aware of subtle seasonal changes here, looking out at the woods and surrounding area. I notice how the trees live their lives intricately aligned with the seasons, as do the birds and all other living things there. Colors change throughout the year: green leaves and multi-colored flowers in spring/summer; golds and reds of autumn; white snows in winter. All of it, a constantly shifting visual dance before me.

Sounds, too, change with the seasons. In the early spring, the calls of peepers (frogs) fill the woods at night, almost deafening at times, but also rich with promise and wonder—new beginnings! Soon the birds pass through on their annual spring migrations, and the trees resound with bird song: cardinals, robins, red-winged blackbirds, catbirds, orioles, song sparrows, wrens. The calls and songs continue into the summer as the birds nest and raise their young. In the late summer, locusts buzz in the hot evening air, and the chirping of crickets echoes in the woods. A cricket concert every night! In the winter, I hear chickadees, goldfinches, nuthatches, titmice, and woodpeckers. On a snowy day, these birds visit neighbors’ feeders in the soft and soothing silence.

Throughout the year, I experience these changes daily on my walks, and my heart overflows with such appreciation for the wonders of Nature right outside my door (and windows). The seasonal parade of blooming trees and flowers is thrilling every month of the year: snowdrops, crocuses, forsythia, daffodils, hyacinth, tulips, azalea, redbud, magnolia, dogwood, iris, rhododendron, lilacs, roses, daisies, spirea, lilies, peonies, hydrangea, coreopsis, echinacea, butterfly weed, zinnias, marigolds, gayfeathers, black-eyed susan, ageratum, goldenrod, rose of Sharon, sunflowers, and bright red winterberries. I love looking forward to the appearance of each one as the year goes by—always a new burst of color to brighten my day, 

It is a joy to be present for all these transformative moments as the year moves through its cycles. I have lived with the seasons all my life, but now I notice them more acutely. As if I have become one with an infinite Awareness that holds all things in full peaceful presence. From that vantage point, there is no separation—only the light of Being everywhere. The sights and sounds of the seasons are within me as well as outside. Mother Earth gives us such remarkable gifts every single day.

Solstice and Light

Today, December 21, is the Winter Solstice here in the northern hemisphere, the shortest day (and longest night) of the year. Tomorrow the light begins to increase infinitesimally until it reaches the Summer Solstice fullness in June. The Winter Solstice has been called the “Return of the Light.” An illusion, of course, because the sun never leaves. It is our experience of its light that shifts over the course of a year. And what a miracle it is that our particular planet, Earth, is perfectly placed in our solar system so that life is possible as it rotates and revolves around the sun with mathematical precision each day.

People since the beginning of time have acknowledged and celebrated how light moves through our lives, yearly and daily. Ancient structures like those at Stonehenge in England and Chaco Canyon in New Mexico have been built to exactly show astronomical alignments. I remember when I first saw a film in high school about how the sun appears through a small aperture in the huge standing rocks of Stonehenge exactly at dawn on the solstice. Such amazing alignment and synchronicity! How can you not believe in greater meaning in the universe when you witness such a phenomenon?

Over the years I have always been drawn to magical moments at sunrise or sunset, wherever I lived or traveled. In college in San Diego, two friends and I often drove across town to the beach to see the sun setting into the Pacific Ocean. In Hawaii, I watched sunset through wispy clouds at the top of Haleakala Crater on Maui. Hiking at Bryce Canyon in Utah, Anne and I saw the rock spires magically illuminate like candles as the rising sun touched them. In Guatemala with Maya elders, a group of us rose before dawn to witness sunrise from the top of a Tikal temple, the jungle birds and animals awakening below us. On the other side of the world, the animals in South Africa came to the Olifants River at sunset to drink and eat as we humans watched the sun burn brilliantly red in the evening sky.

All living beings seem to respond to the sun’s light. Our cat Lily used to sit on the back of the sofa in the late afternoon, eyes closed, as the setting sun shone on her face and fur. I have sometimes seen groups of birds sitting in trees watching the rising or setting of the sun. Just yesterday evening, I noticed a dozen or so finches perched at the very top of a tree, facing west, their breasts shining with light, like tiny angels silhouetted against the sky. A perfect solstice alignment—did they know instinctually?

The mystery and power of Light and its relationship to Earth have been part of our collective consciousness for thousands of years. We carry memories of dawn and dusk ceremonies in our genes. Whether instinct or historical memory, we Earth creatures have known that light is at the center of our lives, and we are moved to celebrate it, whether individually on a beach or gathered together at a temple for ceremony. Somehow, deep within us, we realize that we ourselves are made of light. We shine in this world, a reflection of the suns and stars in the greater cosmos we are part of.

Remember

I have just finished rereading the ending of Ann Patchett’s new novel Tom Lake. I am crying—at the poignancy, at the beauty, at the soul wisdom. Last night I watched a 1988 PBS production of the play Our Town, which figures so prominently in Tom Lake, though always in the background (Tom Lake is a summer theater). I wept at that too. There are such deep life lessons in both of them, ones that few remember in their lifetimes. The characters Lara and Emily open to these lessons over the course of events in the novel and play. As does George in the film It’s a Wonderful Life. As are so many of us now at this time on Earth. We are awakening to how extraordinary human life really is.

Don’t miss a second of your life on this remarkable planet. The sadness and suffering as well as the joy and celebration. It’s all such a tremendous unrepeatable experience, like no other in the universe. Each morning, when you wake up, remember. The poet Rumi said it: “The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep,” This is the greatest wisdom of each of our lifetimes, throughout time, and especially now. Don’t go back to sleep. See the living spark of divine light in your partner’s or child’s eyes. Love your friends and family with all your heart. Appreciate them. Love yourself. You are a miracle.

Look around at the beauty of Mother Earth, the birds and trees and flowers. Everywhere there is beauty, even in the smallest detail of the most insignificant blade of grass. Even in a cemetery. A cemetery is a central figure in both Tom Lake and Our Town (and It’s a Wonderful Life). It stands as a coming together point of all life and eventually all the wisdom that arises from living. Spirit lives there. Spirit, which continues throughout time and space.

There is a cemetery that is a central figure in my life as well: Mt. Auburn. It is also a nature sanctuary, and for more than 40 years, I have walked there in the sweet silence and sounds of the natural world. I greet the birds each spring as they migrate and sing their lilting songs. Anne and I were married at Mt. Auburn, under the trees by Auburn Lake, the most beautiful day of our lives. I heard about the death of a friend there, tears streaming down my face as a bright red cardinal appeared on the path before me. I felt my mother’s spirit there after her passing, a cardinal singing nearby then too. And I have sensed my dad’s energy in the trees and the crows calling overhead. One cold November night many years ago, Anne and I watched meteor showers streaking across the cosmos in the deep darkness of Mt. Auburn at 3 a.m. Some of my most powerful moments of connection to something greater in the universe (Spirit, the Great Mystery, God) occurred there. All of life and death coming together as One in my awareness.

In Tom Lake, a cemetery on a rural wooded hillside brings everyone together in love and continuity. I feel that at Mt. Auburn. That is why I return, year after year. It helps me remember. We are all finding our own ways to remember now, we latter-day poets and saints of the 21st century. We came to Earth at this time to become fully awake and aware, to connect with one another, and to see the miracles in everything. In life/death, in pure being. Don’t go back to sleep. Remember. It is the gift of a lifetime, of all lifetimes.

Sentinels of Song

In spring and summer, I wake up each morning to the robin’s cheery song outside my window. S/he sings at the very top of the tree in our backyard for several minutes, then flies to another tree, then another, and another, then back again to the backyard. At night I fall asleep to the sounds of a mockingbird’s wonderful medley of various bird songs, and at dawn s/he is still singing. Robins and other songbirds do this to establish their home “territory” or attract a mate. Feathered sentinels, they seem to watch over the area with care, enveloping it in song. I can actually feel the vibration of living presence surrounding me as I listen.

I also hear cardinals, song sparrows, house finches, white-throated sparrows, Carolina wrens, mourning doves, and chickadees singing the day into being. Canada geese call as they fly overhead. Each of their songs is unique and a delight to hear. My heart is uplifted as I walk through my neighborhood every morning. Sometimes, late at night, the soft haunting call of a screech owl can be heard in the trees outside the window. And when I go to nearby Mt. Auburn Cemetery for each year’s spring migration, the songs of orioles, tanagers, thrushes, flycatchers, and warblers of all kinds fill the air. I am reminded of the birds that were part of my childhood in rural Illinois, and my heart expands with love for the world. In spite of human conflict and thoughtless neglect of the environment, birds continue to bring joy to the world with their songs, weaving a musical tapestry. They are like guardians of happiness on Earth.

Perhaps every one of us is meant to do this in our lives: be sentinels of our individual human songs. Each of us in our own way is unrepeatable and colorful, like a songbird in spring. And we each have a unique gift to bring to the world. A song of the soul, if you will. When we “sing” full out, lovingly, heart open, we lift the hearts of those around us. A magical alchemical vibration!

By “singing,” I mean simply being yourself. Birds don’t pretend to be something other than who they are; they are completely aligned with Nature and their “birdness” as they sing. If you and I also align ourselves with the natural world around us and forget about trying to become something other than who we were born to be, “song” flows from us like light. It is the music of the soul and the love in our hearts, which we came into this life to share.

This may sound like a nice story with little connection to the real world, but if you pause a moment and listen to the next bird you hear singing, you may realize exactly what I mean. If each of us was created to live on Earth for a particular reason, to bring to the world a particular gift, what is yours? What is the soul music you came here to share? If birds are sentinels of song, perhaps human beings are sentinels of the heart. When we love fully, the music of the spheres flows through us.

Miracle Earth

Stop for a minute and consider where you are. You, along with billions of other living beings, live on a planet that rotates around a giant ball of fire at exactly the distance that allows for life to occur on it. Other planets circling the same fiery ball are not positioned so that life as we know it can be sustained. On Earth, the greens of the land and the blues of the oceans arise from the perfect blending of temperature and light. The lengths of the days and nights and the seasonal changes unfold seamlessly. That in itself is a miracle. Each day we take morning, afternoon, and night for granted. We take the warmth of the sun for granted. We take the air that we breathe for granted. Yet all of it is miraculous.

And fragile. We are repeatedly counseled to care for this Earth with tenderness, as if she were our Mother. As she is. Without her (and Father Sun), we would not exist. This small blue and green marble in the midst of millions of galaxies and universes is unique. A tiny cell in the cosmos. An expression of universal consciousness, as are each of us who live here. Is this not a miracle to keep us in awe for the rest of our days here on Earth?

Sometimes I imagine myself floating among the stars, multiverses stretching in every direction beyond my ability to even fully conceive of them. I picture myself part of an infinite tapestry of light and beingness. Eternity unleashed. Such an imagined vision used to frighten me—and at times still does. Yet, more and more, I feel the miraculous beauty of it, and I am filled with peace. Peace beyond understanding or definition. I experienced such boundless peace in the recovery room after breast cancer surgery two years ago; I felt myself held by a Presence that both calmed and comforted me.  Ever since, it seems not that far away. If I allow that awareness to arise from soul memory, then everything shines with that grace, that divine peace, that miracle. There is nothing else.

If you open your heart wide enough (or it is cracked open by circumstance), you will be gifted with your own version of the miraculous, and it will never leave you. Each one of us on this planet is destined to receive this wonder: an entire universe present in every seemingly small detail of our expansive, infinitely unfolding lives.

And you don’t have to go through surgery to experience it! Take a walk through the spring woods, look up at the starry night sky, watch the brilliant colors of a sunset, or share a sacred moment of connection with a loved one. It’s all there, right before you. Spirit finds you at just the right moment in your life and opens the door wide. You were born on planet Earth to be part of the miracle.