So I've been reading lately. I know, it's not much of a surprise for those who know me well. I've been reading non-fiction. This is unusual. And on top of that, I've been reading it at the rapid rate typically reserved for novels. Something must be seriously wrong...
Ok, not wrong at all, just different. Introducing myself and being introduced to the field of ecopsychology/deep ecology is radically changing the way I live my life. Not only live, but view life. And this whole notion of being human is questioned.
Spending time in the natural world, I've begun having conversations with the trees and the deer. Even the snowflakes and I communicate. These communications, this time outside brings a vibrance, a fire, a renewed purpose to life. Last night, for example, I walked to a small creek near my house. I laid down and listened. I heard the gurgle of the water moving over rocks and around the bend. I heard the snowflakes on my jacket. I heard the silence and stillness of the grasses and the trees in the snow. As the back of my body pressed up against the snowy, frozen ground I felt remarkably warm. I believe this warmth was not just a result of the layers of down and fleece I was wearing, but was a result of (or perhaps an invitation for) yielding into the earth. Sensing deeply this ability to let go (of what I'm going to do when I get home, or planning my day tomorrow, or how I'm going to apologize to a friend I fought with) I could feel the contours of the earth holding me. The way my right shoulder blade fit perfectly against a bunch of grass, or the way the dirt and leaves moved aside to provide a shelf for my feet.
I don't know how long I lay like this. There is a timelessness in these communications...
And tonight, I return home from work, gently riding my bike in the snow, hungry for more information. So I search. I search the library catalogs. I search websites of organizations doing this work. I put books on hold. So many that I've committed my library card number to memory. And in this search I find my community; the trees, the rocks, the thinkers, the writers, the movers, the dreamers who are also willing to listen to the snowflakes.
