Welcome Back to Earth

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It’s quiet. Ahhh. I’ve been waiting for this for a while.

The solitude gives me shivers. Shivers of happiness and joy.

This is where I learn to be. This is where I rediscover me.

 

The cool grass folds beneath my feet as I walk. I savor the feeling of the grass between my toes, the dew that makes it stick to my feet. The feeling of walking barefoot and unencumbered.

Touching the ground— skin-to-earth is one of the best things there is. It’s like I’m back where I’m meant to be.

 

I smell. Oh, the smells, the smell of the trees. The ground, the sweet grass, the dandelions, the other weeds that are some of the most exquisite flowers I’ve ever seen.

The breeze, I almost forgot. The breeze, is what makes me want to cry. It takes me to a different place, a person, a spirit, a feeling, a word, a world.

I’m held. I’m seen. I’m loved. I’m felt. I’m someplace else.

Wiggle your fingers and the air whistles through each of them. You know nothing’s there, but you feel the wind in the spaces between your fingers and can’t keep from thinking that you feel your hand being held. It’s as if the Holy Spirit has slipped her fingers into yours and your hands are interlocked as you walk along.

Where do I find God you ask? In the untouched, unarranged, and beautiful disarray of nature.

Whatever or whoever God is anymore, I couldn’t tell you exactly. All I know is that nature and trees and grass and skies and wind and scents and anything green and brown is holy.

Walking barefoot across the grass.

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The Ocean

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So, here’s what I’ve discovered about the ocean.

I’ve always had a kind of love/hate relationship with it. I always try to relate when people say “Oh, I LOVE the beach!” “The beach is my favorite place to go on vacation!”

I’ve never felt that connection to it. My happy place would be the mountains or the forest because I feel calm there and at ease. But here’s what I discovered on my latest visit to the ocean.

The love/hate relationship is due to my love of nature. Anything nature-related I feel a connection to. It’s where I find peace and where I feel God. Thus, by default I appreciate the beach because it is a vast piece of nature.

The beach is hard though because it doesn’t settle me. It doesn’t relax something in me when I’m there.

Instead, it does the opposite. It stirs things up inside me that I don’t want stirred up.

It makes me contemplate life, and God, and the future, relationships, and deep things that are hard and complex.

The ocean doesn’t settle me. It pulls me in. It draws out the deepest thoughts. The most complex fears. The hardest things I deal with understanding. It teases them out until I am caught in the undertow of one though after another.

It’s good. Yes, good. But hard too.

It connects me to the things settled below the surface of myself, and washes them up onto the shores of my consciousness.

The ocean is fluid, mysterious and deep. It swirls my thoughts every this way and that. It’s complex and beautiful.