Connecting With Nature: Week 2
After months of being cooped up indoors, seeing the bare trees, brown grass and a permanent gray sky, spring has finally sprung. We all complained about having snow fall on the last days of April. Now that it’s sunny and warm, the collective has found new things to complain about.
Why is it we can’t be happy with what we have? Yes, allergies are in full bloom and the bees are buzzing, but spring is a time of renewal. Nature is doing its job so the bees can pollinate flowers for people to live healthy lives. Sometimes the weather does things we don’t necessarily like but instead let’s flip our mindset to gratitude.
Gratitude for what we are able to do, like sit outside and meditate each day. I love how the breeze gently blows onto my face making it easy to get lost in the present.
Stop Complaining And Let The Weather Do Its Thing
As I run around like a crazy woman to get away from the bees, telling myself to be a tree, I still love to be outside. I might make excuses to play inside when the bees are out but I reassure the kids they are stretching their wings, too.
I’m not sure where the bees go in the winter but in the spring they have a job to do. My job is to stand still while they nonchalantly pass me by to pollinate flowers and make honey. The bees’ job is vital to our life cycles as humans. A sting from them could make my arm swell up to the size of a potato, but I know I have to let them be. As my husband says, they are more afraid of you than you are of them. This coming from the man who wants to pack up and move when he sees any type of insect in the house.
Connecting with nature this month was about appreciating nature on a deeper level.
- It’s about walking barefoot in the grass, really feeling the ground beneath me.
- The birth of all the new ducklings seen waddling around the retaining ponds in our neighborhood.
- Taking the time to soak in the awesomeness of it all while coming from a place of gratitude.
- Realizing how powerful nature is and how we can’t control the elements.
Instead we need to change our story about how we feel when the rain is coming down. We can be sad it washed away our chalk drawings, but remember it is growing grass. This is a time to stop complaining about the weather, instead finding good in all it brings to us.
Change Your Nature Story
We used to have this pond by our house when I was growing up. My mom and I would gather up our stale bread to walk there on nice evenings to feed the ducks. In the late 80’s, there were fewer geese as they hadn’t over populated yet.
Sidewalks weren’t covered in bird poop and it was fun to see them walking around interacting with one another. We watch as a sea of ducks would come near us as we threw pieces of bread to them. Once the bag was empty they would get bored of us and move on.
The geese, though, were persistent and mean. I’m pretty sure they thought we were holding out on them and that we could materialize more out of thin air. As a child, the ducks were tolerable because they were smaller and sort of listened as I show them the empty bag.
Twice their size, the geese came at me with an attitude and one time after we had finished, I was almost attacked. We were simply walking around the pond when one goose who was extra feisty began running at me: fast.
FYI: Geese don’t scare as easily as ducks.
Eventually I got far enough away that it stopped, but as an 8 year old, the trauma stuck with me through adulthood. As I sit in my house during these early hours, a flock of geese fly overhead, honking, minding their own business. Even the sound of them makes me twitch with awareness of what is flying above me. There are thousands of other noises occurring outside but the geese stick out like a sore thumb.
At 37 years old, I know that no goose is out to get me, but a trigger in me makes my flight reaction go off. No one wants to get attacked by an animal but I am a little weary when a flying V goes over my head.
The thing about nature and life in general is that nothing stays the same forever. Things are always changing and impermanence is inevitable. The goose who chased me out of his pond is probably not sitting around harboring vengeance on me. 30 years later, he is long gone and did not tell his friends about the little girl who was all up in his space.
If he can let it go, then so should I!