Life makes sense to me when I am alone out in nature, when I welcome it as a companion. The trees grow up and up and down and down, higher and deeper; the river moves unceasingly, patiently breaking through the rock as it seeks its destiny in the nearby ocean; the moss covers whatever it can, alive and ever expanding, the proof of the health and life of the forest, and the cougar I know is hiding somewhere in the forest adds that perfect amount of chaos and danger that is so true of life – the element I am slowly learning to accept not with fear, but with humility.
I walk this path every day. Breathing in as deeply as I can, connecting myself to the earth in as much as I know how to. I was born a part of it, planted here like a seed. I don’t know how I came to be, only that this being is a gift, a chance, and I must absorb and become everything I can. I must lend my soul out to this human experience to be used for whatever purpose the Creator has for me. I feel my destiny is sure as I walk down this path, putting one foot in front of the other, knowing where I am headed. There is comfort and solace in that, as simple as it may be to those with more ambitious, more pressing and urgent destinations than the one I have decided on for today. Just….the river. And then I will go back home.
I feel my life here, the whole weight and substance of it. I feel my losses, but they seem natural and perfectly ordered somehow. Another leaf that floats gracefully downward to its final resting place on the ground, feeding the hungry earth. This forest wastes nothing. Everything has a purpose, and the chaos somehow becomes ordered. I can feel the beauty of all of my life’s experiences here, seeing that they all grow into each other, a tangle of roots, always deepening and expanding in the underground of my very person; making me as resilient as I can be.
I sit on a rock beside the river, feet steadied on the ground, eyes closed, wanting to send my pain fast down the river with the current. It reaches out to me like a thousand pairs of willing hands offering to take what my heart is holding onto…if I am willing to let go. And I am. I believe that when there is an end to something, when you have no way to fix or heal or change that thing – whatever it is – that still occupies your heart, it is a gift to be able to let it go, to be done with it…unburdened. There is a tangible compassion in this moment, this gentle exchange – I give my burden to the river, and the river gives me another chance to create space, new space, for the love and understanding I so desire. I wait in stillness for them to trickle in, to fill me up. I am expectant. I am sure.