This evening I walked through a preserve to the edge of a lake and sat on a bench to begin my quiet communion with nature.
Beauty was everywhere — waves breaking across a vast surface, tall trees all around, an osprey flying by with fish in mouth, vultures sailing in lazy circles above, sun’s shadow fading from the horizon… The wind was blowing briskly, adding another dimension to the senses.
Yet my connection to it all wasn’t as sharp, as deep as it usually is where my soul would sing with nature and body would vibrate in harmony. It was far more subtle, as if reaching through a fog.
I’ve noticed this happens when I haven’t been in nature as much as I usually do; due to heat issues my usual forays deep within have been on hold. It’s not all bad — the past couple weeks I’ve been able to venture out to the lake and such in early evenings now.
As they say when recovering from something long term — rejoice in the small victories (and these are great ones for my sore soul). I delight in each of those victories and the first time back to the lake there were tears in my eyes at such a sweet reunion.
And yet, the connection.. It’s fuzzy.
I know why — it’s like meditating. When you stop for awhile or do it sporadically, the connection within is not as strong, it fades. Like a muscle weakening from lack of use. It takes time to reconnect, to go deep again.
I find that’s what’s happening with nature. The connection never goes away like a permanent radio signal (after all, we are from nature), but it can fade.
I try to go to the lake shore each evening and I can feel the connection slowly rebuilding and the bliss subtly rise within.
I’m truly looking forward to those days when I had total immersion with her, my beloved. It’s been a long journey back, but it’s coming.
Once something gets into my bones, it becomes a forever love.