Hugging the Neck of Mother Nature
"Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love."
The purple of the cloud bled onto the wrinkled face of the mountain it hugged, much as a child hugs the neck of its mother. A fitting tribute. All of nature blends and borrows, each from the other, creating beauty anew in every sunrise. We sit, along the lava-lined ocean shores, atop the snowy cap of the highest mountain or amid the tall prairie grass, listening to nature chattering in the breeze. Wherever we are, we sit and think of the majestic wonder without and within, the latter often unclaimed.
And we yearn, to be a part of the beauty without and to claim the beauty within. So why don't we? Wyatt Webb, in It's Not About the Horse, lays the responsibility squarely at our feet. "If the practice you've been involved with hasn't produced definitive change, then guess what? It's not working....If you're to achieve the peace, joy and spiritual fulfillment that you want so badly, it depends upon one thing and one thing only -- your willingness to simply do something different."
Tami Keives, author of This Time I Dance, also tells us to change our priorities. "You will never realize your dreams by focusing on passion-sucking, brain-distracting imagery and mutating obstacles. This dream-birthing is not a cool and rational process of sipping iced tea and considering possibilities. Instead, you might say it's the recognition that you have no alternative, want no alternative and can no longer wait for reason and thunder to catch up with the lightning flashes and clairvoyance of your heart."
Lightning, thunder, and clairvoyance. Yes, yes. We all want these experiences, but how do we define different in a world where time slots are rigidly claimed? Dawna Markova talks about facing this dilemma in I Will Not Die an Unlived Life: Reclaiming Passion and Purpose. "I need to recover a rhythm in my heart that moves my body first and my mind second, that allows my soul to catch up with me. I need to take a scared pause, as if I were a sun-warmed rock in the center of a rushing river. I need total media deprivation, so I can step back from the detail of the little dots I have been thinking about analytically and absorb the whole pattern that only my wild and wide mind can perceive. In essence, I need to come home to myself. It's not really how far I move to find my own wisdom that matters, but it's crucially important that I take myself along on the journey...I have been living a divided life, caught too often unprotected and unprepared in the face of too much happening too often."
"Dreams are what life is made of," Francine Ward writes in Esteemable Acts. "They give you a reason to get out of bed in the morning and a reason to go to bed early at night so you can wake up and start all over again. Living your dreams is the first, but not the final, step in building real and lasting self-esteem. When you follow your heart, when you live with intention and passion, everyone benefits, because you're happier and more vital. What do you dream about when you're by yourself and left just with your own thoughts?"
Too much happening too often. That's what sucks our dreams and our passions dry. To be different, we must choose different. We must eliminate that which kills the dreams of our wide and wild minds. A sacred pause, warming ourselves as the rock does amid the raging river, is the new priority we must build into our daily lives if we are to reclaim the wonder without and within. Only then can we take the time to let the purples, pinks and oranges of each sunrise and sunset bleed down upon us, like a mother cradling her child.
By Loretta Kemsley
Women Artists and Writers International
Writer, Editor and Editorial Coach
Loretta Kemsley's Personal Portfolio: Women's