It’s no secret I have a deep love affair with nature. In my nearly 52 years of life I have yet to find a thing about nature that I do not love or find fascinating. I’ve seen tornadoes spawn in the skies above me, stood in the winds of hurricanes, survived nor’easters, fought wildfires and hiked in blizzards. I’ve also basked in a harsh sun, sought refuge from muggy, humid New Jersey summers, swam in oceans both crystal clear and with zero visibility. I’ve swam with sharks and sea turtles, touched the skins of long-sunken ships, breathed fresh air above the treeline and talked to mountain goats who seemed way too big to be so nimble at 14,000 feet. I’ve showered under great waterfalls, swam in mountain springs, and buried little bits of me on trails shared by moose, elk, and many other forms of life who I could feel not just around me, but within me.
Nature has not only become a part of my life, but has also changed my life in indescribable ways. I’ve discovered the silliness that exists in the type of human endeavor I was taught, and the miracles that exist in natural simplicity. I’ve learned the value of liberated solitude, the type of solitude where I am not running from something or someone but running to that part of me that exists out there. I’ve made companions with those primordial parts of me that feels something in the trails that I hike and run on, a memory living deep within my cells that pours out of me like a great ancestral story. I am reminded of something that happened long before I was born, in a place that exists in my soul, a story told by a voice I’ve not met but perhaps know better than anyone. I tell that story in my labored breath as I move, each drop of sweat a wordy testament to a story that was started in the very beginning. Not my beginning, but our beginning.
I can say this with unequivocal confidence. If you want to find yourself, exist in nature. Don’t just hug a tree, be the tree. Don’t just hear the rushing waters of a spring runoff, feel the waters echo within you. Don’t just hike a path, absorb the path. Don’t interfere with the moose, or the deer, or the chipmunks along your way, be with them. You’d be surprised how nature wants to exist beside you if you don’t try to disturb it, if you just share the same breath as everything around you.
One can discover solitude in a crowd in the unique and intimate connection made with nature. Soon, human voices sent out by people distracted by their thoughts become just another part of the surroundings. You can walk with a friend, climb with a beloved, or smile at a total stranger without ever feeling disconnected from the natural truth you’re enjoying. You can even learn to share some of your own thoughts without being distracted by them, just as your footprints share your existence with nature without ever disturbing the trail. Be totally one with nature and you will not lose Her, even if you are stuck in a box doing your thing (or someone else’s thing) during a workday. She will call out to you in your dreams and inspire you in your efforts even when you aren’t anywhere near a trail. She is that much a part of your humanity, your Divinity and the essence of your soul.
I’ve come very far since my introduction to nature. Where I once stood on a mountain gazing at all that could be seen feeling that I need to be here, I’ve now discovered the glory of actually being here. Where I once was a sprout confined by an impassible ocean of water, I am now a part of endless peaks and valleys that I can certainly walk across. Where once my experience was limited to the feeling of looking at the vastness of ocean before me, I know can touch the sea of life that begs me to caress Her. I am no longer reminded of my limitations, but of my limitless potential. What, may I ask, can I not do?
It is there, in my boundless truth, I stand gazing once again and wishing my beloved could be here swimming in this limitless possibility, awakened by the earth course through her soul. It is here that I wish we stood together, blooming under whatever clouds or sun or rain or clear sky we find ourselves under. It is here I echo nature’s truth when I turn to her and see the awe of Divinity shining in her eyes. I swear as I look back at my first time on a mountain, saying in those whispering prayers “I need to be here” that I also said, “we need to be here”. In that vision I hear her respond, “Why?”
“Because I love you.”