I am participating in The Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life Story Challenge, writing every day during the month of March. My theme this year is "Outdoors".
I have never described myself as an outdoorsy person. I prefer cabins with flushing toilets to tents and a trek to the bathroom, temperatures neither too hot nor too cold (though I'll take the latter over the former), and seasons featuring the minimum of biting and/or flying insects--except for butterflies. They can flit by anytime.
More and more, however, I am being drawn to fresh air and sunlight. When the weather is cooler, I take advantage of a cabin franchise (formerly Getaway, now called Postcard Cabins) and enjoy the four hour drive to the Piney Woods of Texas. Sitting outside in an adirondack chair in jeans, flannel shirt, and hiking boots, looking into a glade of trees so thick that I can't see the next cabin, I can disconnect from electronic buzzing and consumerism and just...be. It is enough to be present and a witness to the birdsong and rustling leaves in the breeze.
Fresh ocean air and moonlight have the same pull. I felt at peace sitting on the second-floor patio of a beach-y A-frame, across the street from the Emerald Coast of Florida. It's been years, but I can close my eyes and transport to those evenings with clear starry skies and the sounds of the never-ending waves lapping on the beach. No words needed to be spoken, no tasks needed to be attended to. It was enough to be present and small under the sky that seemed to meld with the watery horizon as the night deepened.
Old trees and ancient waters remind me that I and the rest of the human race are but newcomers on this speck of dust floating in a vast universe. My inadequacies, worries, and burdens become as weightless as a crumb carried by an ant, viewed from on high. Through this lens, I am whole.
Aaaahhhh! Yes. I concur. Love the line, My inadequacies, worries, and burden become as weightless as crumb carried an ant, viewed from on high. (I also wrote about the power of nature to heal today!). Thanks for the respite.
ReplyDeleteKim
I love the transformation you’ve described… a transformation that brings wholeness, embracing yet another part of how we are called to faith, hope, joy. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteChris, as much as I love nature, I'm with you: Give me flushing toilets and air-conditioning, please. Yet I know that we humans are meant to live closer to the earth than we do, and that the nature is sanctuary. We can sense wholeness and holiness in it better than we can in ornate manmade structures, beautiful though they may be. Birdsong is purer than any hymn, and, in fact may well have been the precursor of hymns.Your last line on old trees and ancient waters reminds me of the definition of awe - once we know we are part of something greater than ourselves, we find purpose. A capacity to give of ourselves. Therein lies wholeness - it is a divine pull. Lovely post.
ReplyDelete-above comment from me :)
DeleteOh, Chris, isn't this lovely. Your descriptions of the natural settings was beautiful, and that last paragraph is perfect. "Old trees and ancient waters remind me that I and the rest of the human race are but newcomers on this speck of dust floating in a vast universe." So beautiful. "Through this lens, I am whole." Thank you for writing yesterday. And double dipping publishing is totally okay! No cheating in that. :)
ReplyDelete"...looking into a glade of trees so thick that I can't see the next cabin, I can ...just...be. It is enough to be present and a witness to the birdsong and rustling leaves in the breeze." Your words transported me back to camp outs three decades ago when we lived in Houston. And I love how you gave such a beautiful nod to my OLW, be!
ReplyDeleteI combine posts too. What are they going to do? Kick us out?!
Nature is restorative. It relieves stress. It gives us a sense of belonging. It also lets us know that it has been he before us and will continue to be here after us. Bob
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