Finding Your Joy in Challenging Times

"Nature is not a place to visit. It is home."

Gary Snyder ~ American poet

Some say that our planet and all beings upon her are in the midst of a great shift, a great awakening. Others would deny this, but I think we could all agree we've entered a period where the norm of our daily lives has become disrupted, where political polarization is at an all time high, a time where our livelihoods feel tenuous and our lives feel fragile.

Whether we view this as calamitous, or the byproduct of enormous birthing pains, we're challenged to hold onto our center, stay grounded and find ways to nourish ourselves, physically, emotionally and spiritually.

I've always been jealous of birds' gift of flight. To be able to lift and soar above the earth seems like a marvelous, freeing thing to be able to do. Yet, as humans, we stand upright, vertically oriented between earth and infinite sky. How can we honor our connection with the earth and also find ways to reach up, to connect with our higher knowing that we are part of something far greater than ourselves?

During this time of isolation, disruption and change, I personally find walking outside in nature grounds me and helps me to feel part of the greater whole. When I'm in nature I'm clear that the spirit that moves through me is the same spirit that moves through all things. I savor the colors, rich textures, the movement of grasses, tree branches, clouds, the melodious songs of birds, crickets, tree frogs.

I lived in Philadelphia for many years and while I didn't live right in the city, I was in a more urban environment. I count myself lucky, now that I've moved to North Carolina, to live surrounded by acres of trees. While I do meditate sometimes, and probably should more often, I think of my walks as my moving meditation.

Every few days, I visit a place called the North Forest and walk on a path that winds down through the woods to a stream. Many of the trees are those I knew in Philadelphia, but there are also many tall, slender pines called Loblolly pines, previously unknown to me, which drop their needles, creating a soft path to walk upon.

Sometimes I encounter another person on the path, but often I'm completely alone. Some days I move quickly, other days I move more slowly, pausing to stoop down and stroke patches of velvety moss. In winter the colors are more subtle: silver and grey, bark mottled with pale green lichen, the ochre tan of brittle birch leaves. Whatever the season, I come home feeling nourished and restored.

In this time of change and disruption we all need to find those things that nourish and replenish us. What do you find lights you up? What could you make more room for in your life that would bring you more fulfillment, restoration and joy?