I love that recent science now shows there is a unitive field connecting everything.  We are not separate from our planet, we are linked in a unity despite our many differences, and living in the reality of this relationship benefits us as well as our planet.  For me, looking after the planet stems best from loving and appreciating its wonders rather than from fear of climate change or biodiversity loss.

The culture when I was brought up stressed my individuality and separateness, not an awareness of this unitive reality, so I have been finding ways to realise and experience it.  I now look at the trees and plants that I pass, not just appreciatively but more open to them, almost like listening.  And when I do that, I nearly always get a sense of welcome back from them.  I often talk to them, and sometimes sing!  And I switch my perspective from seeing them as something out there, to realising that my sight and hearing and touch bring their presence inside me.  I breathe the air that they give out and they breathe mine.

What helps you to relate more deeply?

Welcome

I can walk past
the trees that I pass
as backdrop to my thoughts,
or I can notice
their beauty and form.

Or I can remember
that they too
have a level of consciousness
that I can relate to,
and so see them differently,
aware of their inner nature,
as if they, too,
are aware of mine.

And then it is as if
I can sense a smile,
their welcome and enjoyment
of our interaction together.

It is like a hug
from a friend.

I have recently read ‘Sacred Nature: How we can recover our bond with the natural world’ by Karen Armstrong (Bodley Head 2022).  She includes quotes and teachings from religions and philosophies that highlight our interdependence with the natural world.  Here are some insights from China.

The golden rule is found in all religions in some form.  Jesus said ‘Do to others what you would have them do to you.’  Confucius first promulgated it as ‘Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire’ in the 6^th century BCE.  The Chinese view was that human beings together with all the myriad things of nature (the wanwu) formed one body with the universe, and people were not seen as distinct or superior, a view that science is now endorsing.  So the Chinese philosopher Mencius (3^rd century BCE) insisted that the golden rule applies not only to us but to all aspects of nature as we are inextricably connected; we share the same vital force.  Such a simple but effective way of enhancing our relationship with the natural world.

And Zhang Zai (11^th century CE) from the Western Inscription:

Heaven is my father and Earth is my mother
and even such a small creature as I
finds an intimate place in their midst.

Therefore that which fills the universe
I regard as my body
and that which directs the universe
I regard as my nature.

All people are my brothers and sisters,
and all the things in nature are my companions.

We have had a lot of windy days recently.  I love the wind.  It is so alive, so fresh, so tingling.  It chases the clouds and dances the trees.  It brings air swirling around us from far distances, mixing and mingling our breath, our scents.  My Professor of Geology said ‘Perfection is death’.  If we didn’t have different temperatures of air and of water we wouldn’t have rain, we wouldn’t have our abundant life, we wouldn’t have wind.

When it is next windy, take time to feel it and enjoy it, and send your breath with it as it journeys on.

Highly strung

The wind is skeeting the tired tide,
the slow surface of low waves,
blowing it away from shore
in fast running sheets like hidden shoals
escaping the shallowing land.

Above, it seizes a sycamore tree,
lookout on the cliffs,
ballooning in its branches,
sending wild signals
with its blowabout hair.

The swifts are racing it,
tossing their bodies high
before they swoop to find its sinew.

It shakes and sifts the banked bracken,
whistling through grass
and nettle feathers at its edge.

The wind is highly strung tonight,
whirling skirts and stamping feet,
shape-shifting the landscape in random acts of passion.

There will be a total solar eclipse on April 8^th but unfortunately for those of us in the UK, it will only be visible in North America.  Total solar eclipses occur because of the amazing relationship between our sun and moon as our sun is about 400 times larger than the moon and also 400 times more distant from the Earth.  We may be the only planet in the Galaxy to experience total solar eclipses!  We will be able to see a partial eclipse in the north of the UK starting about 7.50pm.  The other striking thing about April 8^th is that all 7 planets will be in a line in the sky which is a rare phenomenon.  Because of their distance from the earth the gravitational pull is minimal so we will not see any effect on the tides.

These are occasional, dramatic events that we can enjoy and marvel at, but our planet’s distance from and relationship with the sun and the moon affect all of life here in ongoing cycles that we can also enjoy and marvel at.

Playing the day

The sun
rolls into the waiting sky
as the earth tilts towards it.

Birds sing in attendance,
the air quickens like an ocean
ready to move.

I sit at the end of dawn,
at the edge of the garden,
matching my strength to its pull,
playing the day
through shoals of unmarked time.

We have had a lot of rain.  Some unfortunate people have had their houses or their farmland flooded.  Our house is higher than our garden so we are dry although the garden can easily get flooded.  In Britain it is common for us to bemoan the rainy days, even when not at risk of flooding.  It is the easy topic when passing someone on a walk.  Of course we need the rain and can appreciate it for that.  But perhaps we could also engage with the dull, rainy days and find and enjoy the difference they bring to our daily experience.  Our daughter Joy used to have a sign on her wall that said ‘Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it is about learning to dance in the rain.’  And she did.

Wet weather

The rain
has taken my garden,
folding it soft and wet
into grey arms
and closing me out.

I am marooned
in rooms and busy thoughts
but I can view
from a window.

Cowslips and buttercups
shine yellow
while the grass
shoots strong and green,
revelling in its muddy puddles. 

The garden is exercising its right
to be wild,
to soak itself in the weather
and let its roots gather
the profusion it craves. 

I will enjoy it vicariously.