For those of you who have read my articles before, you already know by now that I write about Nature and my interactions with Her. For those of you who have stumbled across my writing for the first time, my series of work explores the connections between Humans and Nature. As my series approaches its
For those of you who have read my articles before, you already know by now that I write about Nature and my interactions with Her. For those of you who have stumbled across my writing for the first time, my series of work explores the connections between Humans and Nature.
As my series approaches its one-year-anniversary, I find myself struggling with a bit of writer’s block. I sometimes think to myself, “there are only so many ways to observe the way Nature speaks to me”. On the contrary, the conversations are limitless, and one must simply learn how to fluently speak the language.
After a certain amount of time and speaking the language the way it was made to be spoken, these principals of existence (taught by Nature) seem to become, well, second Nature.
These lessons reside within my own being, not just in being able to speak to the blowing wind. It has become a very real part of who I am, and who I was meant to be.
Recently, I’ve found myself searching and looking for a connection. It wasn’t long after trying to force a connection that Nature showed me that this approach will not work. Trying to force a connection leads to us overlooking things and overanalyzing.
One must simply sit back and allow them self to be open and vulnerable. That’s when the real connections are born: when we completely let our guards down.
So here’s my story…
It was very late and very dark at night, and I was driving home through the countryside. As I drove, I was thinking about an article lead, struggling to put the pieces together to make a great story. Hopelessly, I searched the corners of my brain for a way to creatively make an interaction I had with Nature into a great story.
And that’s when it happened.
I realized a spider was crawling on the inside of my windshield, crawling back and forth and up and down, terrifying and distracting me from driving. Over the course of ten minutes, three animals jumped in front of my vehicle. They didn’t make me swerve but came close enough to refocus my attention on the reality of the natural world around me. Two of these animals are known in my totem, the third one is a visitor that I had just realized how often I am visited by. The racoon, the rabbit, and the deer.
These three animals came to me in a time of need, demanding my attention but yet with very minor interaction. My mind had been severely adrift, and all I needed was a reminder to keep my eyes on the road; or, less specifically, to keep my eyes on the outside.
Trying to force connections, or anything for that matter, is useless. We must stay open to what the Natural world has planned for us, and the messages it may be trying to send. If we are to try and force these interactions, it would be just as bad as being completely oblivious to the connection as a whole. Nature and life always find a way.
Nya:weh Mother Nature and Creator…for putting my feet back and head back on the ground, and my heart back in the woods.