Sometimes it's hard to be present in the here and now. Yet Mother Nature sometimes helps awaken the mind and the spirit. A gentle rainshower can be all it takes. And sometimes this message from nature feels like a form of divine intervention
Hello and welcome to Uplifted – My name is Meg Luther Lindholm and I invite you to join me on this journey towards a more mindful and compassionate life. The journey isn’t easy, but it is possible if we take it one step at a time.
Today’s step is called The Power of Nature
Recently, while riding my bike through the park near my home – I experienced nature in a way that felt different from usual. Normally I take in the shape of the trees, or the color of leaves scattered across my path – or even the outline of branches when the trees are bare. But this time I felt a stronger spiritual connection.
Ironically, this heightened spiritual experience came at a low point in my meditation practice. I had been trying to meditate at home without success. My will to engage felt weak and I just wasn’t in the mood to focus on my breath or to watch my passing thoughts. I was antsy. So, I hopped on my bike and headed out for a ride. I tried to savor the sights and sounds of the passing scenery. I paused at the edge of the Red River near my home taking in its stillness, and its darkness. I noticed how there was no reflection of the clouds in the river’s smooth yet muddy surface. A mother duck and her two babies paddled along. They were the only sign of life in these still waters.
But even though I was watching nature I wasn’t feeling connected to it. I rode along a dirt trail through trees whose branches formed a tight weave around me. Beautiful, yet I still wasn’t feeling connected with my surroundings. I continued on and soon, biking along on a wide stretch of pavement, I began feeling water drops gently falling on me, which at first didn’t make sense. The sky was bright blue, and the clouds were a light, cotton candy white. There was only a hint of shadow fringing the clouds closest to me. Yet rain was falling on me in such a gentle way. The drops didn’t fall slowly or fast. They felt like heaven’s pulse tapping my arms, my legs, my face and my back very softly. It was as if nature was physically calling on me to attend to it as I hadn’t been able to before.
Now I was enmeshed in the warm embrace of raindrops. And I smiled inside. And I could imagine how the first people felt at the dawn of religion – those who first believed that a higher force can answer our inner calling. In my case it was a calling for connection with the world surrounding me. And in the rain’s answer I was able to feel religion in its most primordial form – not institutionalized – not embellished with robes and incense – not born of babes in mangers or to men sitting in caves or under trees. Not codified into laws and ethics – but born of a gentle rain that felt like a message from a source greater than we can know.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of the founding fathers of the Transcendentalist movement wrote about nature as the foundation of spiritual belief in practice. In his book Nature he said, “The happiest man is he who learns from nature the lesson of worship.” And Henry David Thoreau, actually did Emerson one better by moving into nature as his home. Walden Pond was where Thoreau lived in a cabin he built in the woods. There he proceeded to weave nature and spirit into his days – writing about his experiences in his book Walden Pond.
So that day riding my bike and feeling the rain I felt content to breathe in the soft touch, the gentle embrace and to believe in what I was experiencing in the moment. My attention and attunement to what is brings me peace. This is my religion.
Thank you for joining me on this step of the mindfulness journey that I call Uplifted. You can find this podcast at Upliftedpodcast.com and if you like it I’d appreciate your making a one-time or a recurring donation on the podcast web page. I’m Meg Luther Lindholm. Until next time, take care of yourself and each other.