A Mindful Reflection on Nature and Ourselves

Spring awakens my senses, surging through my veins a desire to grow towards the sun, all the while digging my fingers deeper into the soil.  ‘Tis the season when the blossoming, growth and fertility all around us reflects the same within most of us, and it is a wonderful time to be alive.

Thinking of all the beauty around me, from rich earth to new green to smiling children, as I look out the door, a web of worms grows on our aging cherry tree.  The dialogue ensues.  This is a reflection of the beauty of nature, likening that to our own true selves.  Ugly worms don’t belong here.

Ah, maybe that’s why they’re in my line of sight today.

Left to its own devices, our earth has its own system of checks and balances.  There is no third party evaluation to discuss the ethics, and the consequences are known, precipitating the action.  Nature lives in balance

However, we as humans have the unique gift of free will.  We get to choose our way and find our own balance.  Where have your choices led you?  Where you are now, is all thriving?  Is there balance?  Or do you need a disaster to restore you closer to where you should be?

We receive signs, if we pay attention.  We receive assurance.  Like it or not, we are part of this “nature” around us, and I feel that if we pay attention to it, Nature will offer suggestions on how we should live, maybe even how we can make improvements.

The worms outside.  I will have to cut off that part of the branch and kill the worms to keep them from spreading before they outgrow their current nest of sorts, if they haven’t already.  I don’t like having to do that.  I apologize to the plants as I prune them back and wish insects light and love and a good next life before I squish them, apologizing after.  But I do what I feel I must to keep a balance, prevent an infestation that could further destroy the good thing I hope I have going.

Our cherry tree is on its last leg.  Already I’ve chosen a couple of its off-shoots to grow in its place, several feet away from the original tree.  Eventually we’ll have to cut down the beauty to allow room for the new trees.  I suppose it’s not unlike our love for our children.  We can’t live forever, overshadowing them.  It’s best that our ego takes back seat if not disappears so that our children can grow in their own light and live the lives they were brought here to live.

It is all an intricate balance, a web of life, not without death.  Verily, there is neither beauty nor disgust; there is just what is, and that whole is . . . just is.  I want to say it’s beautiful, but that would be me adding that which is excessive, tipping the scale.

I should take these lessons and practice them, mull them over and throughout, evaluating my own environment, removing what needs to be removed, nurturing what nourishes the whole.

Happy gardening to you, and may the music of spring sing in your soul.

You may also like