Felix, my 13 year old son, sits on the couch with inquisitive eyes and the hint of a smile.
“Mom, I have a question…”
I outstretch my arms, swoop in for a hug and say, “Yes, I do love you.”
His smile broadens briefly but then disappears.
“No Mom. A real question… You see, I have a thought, and then I have another thought about something else. There’s a little break between the thoughts sometimes, and I’d like to reduce the number of thoughts and increase the space between my thoughts, because in that space there isn’t anything to worry about.”
Um…
Gathering myself a bit, I respond, “Well Honey, you just asked a question that wise people have been asking since the beginning of time.”
He looks at me expectantly.
Felix knows Silence is my favorite playground. He knows I sit in meditation daily. His big beautiful eyes tell me that because of this, he thinks I can answer his question.
So I begin…
“Do you ever notice that you feel different when you’re walking in the trees, or sitting by the ocean?”
“Yeah, I feel peaceful. Nature is calming.”
“Nature moves at a different pace than we do. The ocean ebbs and flows. Rises and falls. She lets me in to swim nearly every day, but not on my schedule. Only hers. Only if I wait, and watch, and feel the motion of the water, do I know when to plunge in. Otherwise the rocky shore leaves its mark on my hands and shins.”
Felix offers a knowing grin. He’s been there too.
And he’s sparking something within me that I’ve never put into words…
Even when I’m just sitting on the shore, if I let it, the pace of Nature seeps into me.
If I feel the sand, and breathe in the salt laden air, and look out at the waves, then instead of hearing my thoughts, it’s as if I’m hearing her thoughts. The ocean’s thoughts.
But the ocean doesn’t have thoughts like, “What am I going to make for dinner?” or “How am I going to do on my next algebra test?”
Rather, the ocean lobs fully-formed visceral knowings of well-being.
They hit me and I remember to unclench my jaw. To inhale deeply. To cry those tears I’ve been holding on to.
And then, without me having to get out the whip or the megaphone, those thoughts I’ve been berating or running from… they begin to soften. To spread out. And some of them even vanish.
It’s as if they know, deep down, that the pace of Nature is our pace too.
The rocks, the trees, the birds, the geckos… They know this too. It’s only humans that have forgotten.
So, take your brilliant mind, full of thoughts, and look out at the horizon, or sit beneath a tree, or hold a rock, and simply listen.
Let Nature lob her knowings of well-being your way. Let your breathing match her breathing. Let your heartbeat match her heartbeat.
And then tell me what happens to your thoughts.
Your Story brought tears to my eyes. Just feeling the innocence, and deep curiosity of Felix’s question, gave me a wonderful healing.
Thank you Claire
I trust you and yours are well
Love Leo
Leo! Thank you so much. I am so glad my story touched you and gave you a healing. You are such a bright, beautiful soul. I miss you! Sending love and dolphin kisses to you!!
Indeed.
Thanks Harry! I can see your smiling face and it warms my heart. Sending all good things your way!
Yes! I know you’ve seen it too Claire. Sitting at two-step you might watch a group of visitors show up and find a place to sit. At first, they are restless, can’t sit still, bobbing up and down with bodies and mouths. Busy, busy, busy. They eat a lot but their eyes remain hungry and searching. They bring their lives of stress to the beach.
One day, a man sat close to me and was this way at first. I struck up a casual conversation with him. After about five hours there, in and out of the water enjoying the day, I was getting ready to leave knowing I could return anytime.
I walked by him at the picnic table and noticed a peaceful look on his face. He said, “You know, I could just sit here forever.”
Thanks for sharing your story with your son. What you write is true and we’ve seen it first hand.
Thank you Greg! Yes, I know you’ve seen it. I had a wonderful interaction with a man from Switzerland the other day. He said to me, “You know, it’s so easy to miss beauty.” So easy. I’m forever grateful to the island for showing me how to slow down. I trust you’re well, sharing your yoga and wisdom with the mainland 🙂
Claire, the voice of nature is a pulse. I often walk in the redwoods and go to the ocean to swim. Both are my happy places. My trees speak to me. I’m a treehugger and the trees hug me back. Well being, self acceptance, peace are all
Gifts from Mother Earth.
Thank you for your writing. It resonates deeply with me.
Blessings and Aloha,
Sandy
Thank you, Sandy! I love what you say, that the voice of nature is a pulse. Just saying that to myself helps me tap into it. Many blessings to you as well!
Hi Claire. It’s been a long time. When I have too many thoughts coming, I use a little trick that a another man taught me. I just sing a song in my head. I know; singing is just another thought, but it sure slows things down and helps me get grounded.
Peace and Light
Thank you, Robert! Yes, I love your trick. Sometimes we need to offer our minds something to focus on so the thoughts don’t have so much power. Peace and light to you as well!