Tag: nature

My Life in Waves

In the past few years, I’ve found that life has become a series of waves that rise and fall continuously, carrying varied emotions with them. Even in the course of one day, I can feel sadness, happiness, peace, unrest, and calm again. And part of me, my soul, is just silently observing it all. My soul’s view encompasses everything, expanding both inward and outward. My human physical self wonders about the meaning of all the wave action; my soul just accepts it. 

On New Year’s Day, I had a phone conversation with a longtime friend. We caught up with one another’s lives and then moved into a deeper, more sacred space as we spoke of a dear friend’s recent death and other friends courageously living with health issues. We talked about our own physical and emotional challenges as we age and also face a world increasingly at war with itself. She too has experienced her life as vacillating waves of sadness and joy, pain and love. Never one thing permanently but always shifting, moving, even within the space of a few hours. The longer we talked, the more our hearts opened, and a shared awareness passed seamlessly between us. We each found that some experiences had slowed us down and yet that very slowing had allowed us to live fully in the moment and to see the world anew.

My breast cancer journey in 2021-22 deepened my connection to Spirit while lessening my desire for outer busyness. At times, I became a quiet witness to life as it passed before me and through me. Many of my most profound moments of joy in living were/are in Nature, especially with birds, flowers, trees, and the ever-changing sky. As I described this to my friend and listened to her description of walking in the woods and living each moment completely, I could feel that same truth touch us both. 

 And it began to expand further as I realized that the more I live in the moment, the more that moment opens up to include everything! If I look at all parts of life the way I look at Nature (intensively, expansively, with love), then that is perhaps the greatest wisdom of all. Whether I am active or contemplative, I am always centered in my soul’s inner stillness. I could feel it happening within me as she and I spoke.

I am actually one with the waves that are my life, that are all of our lives. We rise and fall, expand and contract, with the cosmic tides that affect everything in the universe. Our lives reflect the spirit within us and in the world. Some call this connection to God or Universal Consciousness. The words we use don’t really matter. It is the motion, the flow, of something greater that carries us. We are being moved to fulfill our destiny as evolving souls on an evolving planet. The stardust that brought us here is lighting the way, even when things seem unclear or unsteady. And it is the waves that are bringing us Home—to a sparkling golden ocean that encompasses All That Is.

Softening with the Years

I hope to soften as the years go by: my voice, my thoughts, my footsteps. My heart. More love, kindness, and gratitude; less worry, fear, judgment. More listening, less talking. Of course, I am already in the age bracket people refer to as “older.” Older than what or whom, I’m not sure. At any rate, I do feel softer now in my approach to life. Years of spiritual seeking and practice have laid the foundation for that. I stopped hanging on so tightly to my carefully crafted version of reality. I opted for meditation and inner peace over angry political disagreements and the need to be right. Of course, I am not always successful, but all in all, I am less attached to my reality as the ultimate Truth.

There are so many “truths” in this world. If we could only see them as ever-shifting variations on a theme instead of finalities that need to challenge one another. Every person we meet has a different perspective, a different voice. A different inner story. If we listen carefully, beneath the words, we can hear it. And that becomes one of the dearest gifts in life, hearing another’s life story. Because it takes softness, a receptive, tender heart, to hear what another carries within their heart. Often it is in being vulnerable ourselves that we find that others can be vulnerable with us. An experience shared opens the door to another’s sharing, which then unites us as one heart, beyond all stories.

All this comes with softening, realizing that we each are travelers in this life, finding our way step by step. As we age, our steps are sometimes slower, which is the perfect opportunity to see and hear more of the world around us. I’ve taken walks all my life: on city streets as I ran errands, in nature habitats as I watched birds and animals, in my own neighborhood as I appreciated others’ yards and gardens. Sometimes I walked fast to reach a destination or complete a task; other times I walked slower, or stopped entirely, to watch a butterfly or bumble bee or listen to a bird singing. Now I walk slowly most of the time because I find contemplative walking more fulfilling than rushing quickly without really seeing the beauty around me. It is a softer approach to life, available to us at any age, but perhaps life gives us more opportunities to receive this wisdom as we grow older.

I know that many people hate the idea of aging and fear the loss of their self-image and physical/mental abilities. Perhaps we could let go of some of our anxieties and trepidation if we saw each year as an open door leading to new experiences and ways of being in the world, possibly more expansive than anything we have ever known. No one can predict how their life will unfold or how long it will last, but we can appreciate each day we are given. I find that the more I soften the need to know what comes next, the more I can accept and love the present moment before me. I also have discovered that the softening of the passing years is a gift in itself, one filled with unexpected wisdom and the kindness of friends and strangers alike. 

Framing Your Life

“It’s all in how you frame it,” a good friend once said to me when I was lamenting something that had recently occurred in my life. This gem of wisdom has remained with me ever since. It shifts everything when you remember to call it actively into your conscious awareness. The gist is that whatever you picture seeing before you is what you will experience. Same with hearing. My friend refers to landscapers with their loud leaf-blowing equipment as “Tibetan Buddhist monks chanting.” Completely changes the experience from annoyance to laughter, and I invoke that image when I hear them blowing/chanting outside where I live.

Actually I learned some of this from my parents. My dad tended to see first the problems that needed to be addressed and solved (weeds, a leak, rabbits eating his garden). My mother looked out the window and saw the flowers, birds, and sunrise. The optimist’s view. Not that she didn’t see problems or that my dad missed seeing the birds; together they were a complementary blending—which I inherited. And both my parents had the sense of humor that my friend showed with his monks-chanting analogy. We often laughed at such silly things in our household when I was growing up. I’ve carried those shared smiles with me from childhood on.

Now, even though I thrive most on sunshine, I’ve found that seeing rain as renewal for Mother Earth’s greenery helps me appreciate the balance it provides. When I’m running errands, if I miss a bus, I remind myself there must be a reason, so then I immediately know that the person I have a conversation with on the next bus is someone I was meant to meet. This imaginative reframing can touch every moment of life, even a breast cancer diagnosis, which I received three years ago. When I framed it in peace instead of fear, I experienced my treatment as a spiritual gateway—and a surpisingly expansive gift. Anne too is finding her own wise reframing (gratitude for life) with a similar diagnosis.

Our lives pass by so quickly. How we see the events of our days can mean the difference between regret and acceptance, sadness and joy. As each year’s end approaches, this overview can become particularly clear. To celebrate the blessing of every moment we are given in our lifetimes is to know not only wisdom but deep inner peace. And ultimately to realize the sweet intermingling of all our life experiences, creating a tapestry of light.

Nature gives us stunning visual examples of this truth all the time. When a bright yellow leaf floats to the ground in autumn, it is not separate from the leaves still on the tree or those resting below it. It is a part of the continuity of all life that flows through the year in perfect synchronicity. This oneness of being includes the air and the tree branches, the summer sun and the winter snow, the light and the dark. Life on Earth is a circular, multidimensional work of art that gives us the opportunity to experience every possible aspect of its complexity, always magical if we see it that way. Over and over, with each passing picture, I find it’s all in how I frame it.

Language of the Soul

The language of the soul is silence. No words to define reality or limit perception. When we completely align with our souls, we too are wordless. As we were before birth and will be again after death. What is the advantage to being wordless? you might ask. Well, it clears your consciousness. It allows you to be fully present in each moment and each experience. No looking backward or forward; just looking.  The eyes of the soul see nothing and everything simultaneously.

Life on Earth today challenges us to remain balanced in the midst of a very noisy, topsy-turvy world: political conflicts, wars, health pandemics, erosion of human rights, environmental stresses. You struggle to understand and come into balance with the chaos that surrounds you. At times you feel overwhelmed. Yet beneath all the external sound and confusion, your soul sits silently observing. When you take a deep breath and pause quietly, you become one with that presence which is soul awareness.

More and more now, as I live deeper into my life (in years and in experiences), I often find myself with no desire to speak for long stretches of time. On my morning or afternoon walks, I am content to watch all that unfolds around me (and within me) in silence, immersed in soul vision. Huge clouds drift across the bluest of skies, yellow-and-black goldfinches twitter rhythmically as they fly over the treetops, honey and bumble bees visit the flowering Rose of Sharon bushes. Nature evokes peace in my heart.

In truth, I have spent years in training to be at home in silence because I am a birdwatcher. If people talk loudly and make a lot of noise, they scare away the birds. The quieter you are as you walk slowly among the trees, the more the natural world opens up and continues as if you weren’t there. In stillness, you become almost invisible. Robins and catbirds land on nearby branches and sing. Squirrels, rabbits, and chipmunks scurry past. A solitary great blue heron fishes in a pond. Butterflies and dragonflies float by. All part of a multidimensional orchestra in which I too am a participant. The music of the spheres flows silently through each of us at the soul level.

We all play this music; we all understand this language. We were born knowing it. We may not always be aware of it, but it lives deep within us. We feel it when we lie quietly in the darkness before sleep, comforted by soundless sound. At times of great sorrow or great joy, that silent language of the soul expresses what words cannot. We look into one another’s eyes, and we see the gentle light of love shining across time and space. Here we can rest; here we are at home.

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.