Growing and Resting

I often get very obvious but very profound (for me) insights when I spend time in nature. I love my solitary bush walks and have a few secret hideaways in my local nature reserve where I reflect, meditate or just enjoy the sounds and scenes around me. The last few weeks were quite challenging and I did not get to do this as often as I would like, so this morning it was very obvious to me how winter has set in. Everything looked different from what it looked a mere two weeks ago.

I used to say I am a summer person; that I “hate” the winter. I am a passionate person, full of energy and I move fast and purposeful. A spring person. “Springy” too yes! J And whilst it is certainly true that I MUCH prefer the warmer weather and also certainly true that I get cold pretty easily (I wear THREE pairs of socks in winter – and some would say Pretoria winters are quite mild!), this morning it struck me how beautiful it all looked. Yes beautiful – the colours not as vivid anymore, many trees already devoid of leaves, and grass and bush becoming grey and dry. It looked beautiful to me because I became aware of resting. The endless cycle of blossoming, growing, and resting. Not birth and death, but growing and resting.  

Nature is also beautiful when resting. There is a different energy, quieter, mysterious, eerie, enchanting. I’m not looking at a dry bush, a dead tree or a colourless landscape. I’m seeing this, but I’m sensing more. It is as if nature urges me to look beyond the obvious, forcing me to understand better, hear deeper sounds - and it is drawing me closer. I feel as if it has something unique to share with me, it makes me feel special.

I guess that’s why I feel so exceptionally happy in nature. It is in nature that I get the peace and acceptance that has become part of me. It is where I become aware, and reflect. Grow and rest, with space for more. Space for spring and summer.

The beauty of spring and summer brings energy and joy and hope. EXCITEMENT! So can we perhaps also see the “colour” in winter - mysterious, slower and shyer? Perhaps not so “exciting” and vivid, but with a deeper passion and a quieter spaciousness? And can we perhaps expand that awareness to other areas of our lives – things that appear less exciting (“mundane”), people that are less colourful, and places that are a bit darker? And also appreciate these for what they are?

Of course we can. It will make us feel special.

Love and light,

Celeste