Every leaf on the entire mountain is aflutter with God.
Late this afternoon, I ventured out on a walk to meet God. A favourite trail beckoned me in the easy breeze of the late September afternoon. It had been rainy and cool the past few days, abating today, leaving a cozy dampness in the scented fall air.
As the tires crunched to a halt on the side-road, my heart quickened in joy! I love Mother Nature, Divine Mother. Grabbing a handful of peanuts I purchased from the local feed mill in town, I headed into the chorus of green and gold.
“There is pleasure in the pathless wood”, Lord Byron penned. There is pleasure on the path also.
Blessed to be alive this fine autumn day, I walked amidst the cadence of crickets. The grasses, yearning to grow to the sun despite the lessening daylight; reached their long arms high, swaying gently in the breeze. The breath of God subtle and teasing.
God knows I love the trees, all of them, from the great majestic maple, the mighty white pine to the faun-like silver birch. Their leaves and needles rustled and whispered their greeting as I stopped to admire, touch and inhale the scent of the ones that beckoned me closer. The air was pregnant with the fullness of the season. Some leaves had yellowed and begun to carpet the meandering trail ahead; spongy in places from the rain. The trunks of the trees had darkened and held the stain of the damp day.
I stopped to scatter the nuts and closed my eyes, inhaling peace. As I listened in the quiet stillness, the hidden orchestra struck a note here and there. A bird, crickets and a rustle in the marshy hollow to the left of the path let me know I was not the only beating heart in the quiet calm of the forest.
A lovely auburn shrub with leaves like little hands caught my eye. I pondered her and smiled. Curious, I touched a leaf and it came off in my palm. Brittle looking, scratchy and rough, I rubbed the sweet leaf with my thumb and forefinger. Soft and velvety, I proceeded to press her to my cheek. Beautiful! Humans are like this, I mused, looking rough on the outside, acting tough, untouchable, unapproachable; but when I dared to reach out in kindness, most often that kindness was returned. Gentleness and curiosity bring many surprises. Love! It’s the edges that are rough!
There were still some flowers, cheery ox-eye daisies and the royal Queen Anne’s Lace, some may refer to as weeds, bravely catching the last of the bloom before the great Canadian winter struck! So glorious was our time together. Spirit was everywhere. The effervescent glow of the forest steeped in my cells; the vibration of the natural world.
The larger than life white pine was waiting for me. This stalwart fellow had been witness to many heart-opening revelations, truth dripping from my incandescent eyes and catacombs of pain spewing from my sobbing heart. He listened without judgement, taking it all in; being there. He has always been there for me. His bark, rough like the calloused hands of a war-ravaged veteran, comforted me as I held him in a heartfelt hug. Gratitude. Gratitude exuded from my very pores to have such a friend as He. Grounded, standing tall, bending in the wind, he passed no judgement upon me. Coping with whatever God and Mother send his way, his acceptance of all that is. Trees are God too.
There is rhapsody in the finely grained bark of a tree. There is a symphony in the branches with the trilling voices of the winged ones. When you stop and take a quiet breath, the world around you has its’ own breath. You see with new eyes the wondrous appeal and beauty of the great Mother. The natural world comes alive with a pulsating rhythm and it is this rhythm I recognized deep within myself.
These beings of the natural world hold me, comfort me, and provide a safe haven for healing. No one heals me, I heal me; we are each our own healer, but these spirits of the natural world, provide me with the “medicine” and emotional support and safety I need to heal.
Self-realization of the power of healing from the natural world has been a slow process. Always a nature lover, perhaps it comes with being raised in the country, I found solace in the crunch of my footsteps on the crisp white freshness of winter’s hoary coat upon the land. As a child, I gravitated to the natural world. The world of spirit, animals, plants and wide open spaces. These beings never let me down. Not ever. Not like people did. The snow squeaking with the weight of my tightly bundled form trudging along, cozy in my warm winter boots and red wooden jacket. When the temperature plunged, the stars shone brighter in the coal backdrop of the night sky.
I see the broader picture now, the truth of being. When I relax and trust the Great Spirit within and let my flowering unfold organically, life is bliss. The organic moment of the now. Being. Becoming. One with all. God is not outside of me, God is within me. Earth is our home, an intricate tapestry woven by the Great mystery. We are all part of the giant web of creation. ❤