Journey into Nature

It’s summertime here in California. Traditionally this is the season to take a break, slow down from the intensity of everyday life, relax and renew. A time when some of us take vacations, travel to new places, and explore new lands. Or we may travel back to places that feed us, that we love and feel a symbiotic connection to. The land may be across the globe, the country, in the city you live in, or your own back yard.

This is also the time when we have the opportunity to spend more time outdoors. Whether recreationally or dining al fresco there are more occasions to commune with the natural world if we choose to accept the invitation. Mother Nature is the most generous of teachers giving freely of her gifts without any expectation they will even be received or appreciated.

It starts with the simple – though challenging – act of stopping to notice and listen to what is going on around us. Silence helps. We can’t hear the birdsong, chatter of squirrels, vibration of hummingbird wings or whisper of leaves dancing on a gentle breeze while wearing headphones. We miss volumes when our attention is directed to a screen.

I’ve been revisiting Phil Cousineau’s The Art of Pilgrimage – the guide I used to prepare for my pilgrimage to Chartres last year. Since I do most of my work during this season in my garden – a.k.a. summer office – I see many similarities between the journey to a meaningful or sacred place and the journey into nature. Sadly for many, the journey into nature is becoming akin to visiting a foreign land and just as rare.

A few quotes from the book that are equally applicable to the journey into nature:

When you travel a new silence goes with you and, if you really listen, you will hear what your heart wants to say.

Imagine what is behind the presence of these sacred sites and places of pilgrimage. Imagine that its presence demands yours. The call that brought you here is a call to pay closer attention to the sacred source of your life.

Change your viewpoint and you will change your point of view.

Senses are the threshold of the soul.

Try to see everything around you at this moment as portentous.

Come in humility. Come in silence. Come in gratitude. Come to pay respect. Come to receive, to learn and experience something new about yourself.

While pruning a Cecile Brunner rose creeping across my dining room window, I inadvertently exposed an exquisite hummingbird nest with two eggs in it. I haven’t seen the mama return, don’t know if she will or if the nest had already been abandoned. It’s late in the season for hatching.

There are many ways to reflect on this apparition. What have I given birth to and left unattended? What needs more time to gestate? What needs a new environment in order to thrive? What will not come to life that I can let go of?

These questions could apply to creative projects, ideas, self-care practices and relationships. I may not ever have a definitive answer. The opportunity for reflection and learning are what’s important to pay attention to.

Wherever you travel this season, let these words guide you from John O’Donohue, one of the master poets of the presence of place:

May you travel in an awakened way,
Gathered wisely into your inner ground;
That you may not waste the invitations
Which wait along the way to transform you.

Happy trails.