Out my window, the wild crabapple tree flaunts its dark pink blooms against a silver sky. In the background, a chorus of birds fills the quiet. They know that spring is here. Nature at the moment is pushing past its winter boundaries and green growth and colored blossoms overflow all around me. As I sip my Sunday cup of coffee on my front porch, I soak in the sights and sounds. It’s its own kind of church: a time to look with reverence beyond myself to a larger world, acknowledge my part in it and come away renewed and refocused for the coming week.
This past week started out with a tumultuous beginning. An event threw a wrench in my gears and my work came to a screeching halt. Like never before, I questioned myself, my life, my world, my worth. These kinds of events are life changing. I took an objective tour around my world, delved deep into the past to understand the present, thought about the future, reassessed my perceptions, tried to discern reality and cried buckets in the process. As the week went on, I slowly backed away from what happened, gave myself some grace and allowed myself to grieve.
Every day, as we always do, we took our walk at OxBow Park with Sadie, the dog. And that’s where I rediscovered the truth about nature. It takes care of me in all of my fumbling humanity. As I walked through the greening woods, along the edge of the fast-moving river, around the emerging grassy prairie, I slowly felt myself coming back to life. As I watched for turtles sunning themselves on logs and listened to the high piercing song of the peepers, I felt my energy and my voice return. As I soaked in the scent of damp earth mingling with perfumed blossoms, I felt my spirits lift. As I looked over the smooth mirror of water, I felt a sense of calm return.
Spring here in northern Indiana comes with its ups and downs. And I often forget how much I follow its path. But as it starts to settle in pointing the way to summer, I’m also hoping for a smoother road. As flowers bloom and ferns unfurl, I’ll use them as inspiration. As bright greens slowly soften the landscape, I’ll try to soften my own rough edges. As life bursts out of the ground, I feel a new boost of energy pushing me forward. I’m starting to feel the calm that returns after the storm, letting it become only a memory.
How does your life reflect nature? How has nature helped you?
Nature can remind us to breathe and to listen. I'm glad it did both for you this week, Rachel.
It makes me sad to think of you having to deal with such an upsetting situation and I’m so glad you found your balm. I do my best thinking when I’m walking outside and often find healing there, as well.