Mother nature asks for nothing. It simply offers an open, timeless invite for you to sit amongst it in quiet contemplation. It is a silent orchestra of fluidity, sprinkled with the percussion of bird song. It is the gentle trickle of a stream, and the soft breeze upon your cheek. It is peace evoking and soul – nourishing….

And it can be emulated; even though we are not as nimble as the pollenating bee: we can mirror the flow of nature.

All too often our busy and cluttered heads whizz through the day: half on autopilot, and half distracted by the plethora of demands and challenges: racing against the clock, and forgetting that we are of flesh- not metal.  But when we bound like the hare, we are forgetting the wisdom of the tortoise. We can be productive and methodical, if we set a consistent pace. Moreover, we can parallel nature, since we are part of it, and in so improve our productivity and sense of wellbeing.

I used to think that I could multitask, but maybe hampered by the cerebral palsy – I cannot. Too much speeding about only leads to spillages and it does nothing for an anxious mind.

Being calm is mastery, and whilst I am midst learning about this, because it was missing from my dysfunctional upbringing, by copying the gentle pace of nature is, as I am discovering: a far more enriched way of living.

How to achieve the flow of nature is to forget the self-inflicted race. I know it is hard because many of us carry old narrative. In my case, as a young child, the ever-increasing ridiculous list of chores bestowed on me- were way beyond the capabilities of my six-year-old self. Additionally, I had to look after my younger siblings and woe betide me: if the cup of tea was the wrong temperature when mother returned from work…

Yet, and with ongoing practice, often with the help of Chopin, I learn to move with fluidity. Sometimes I am helped by Blondie, if I want to feel invigorated, and music has replaced the ugly screeds in my head… I do not race with the pots and pans: I wash them up melodically – I picture a bee bouncing from flower to flower. I pretend to be the branches of a tree: swaying and giving against the wind of life. I am the patient heron, waiting for the tide to settle before I take my lunch, but I no longer gulp it down…

And, I breath in the scent of nature: the stunning wildflowers, the dewy spring grass, and the wholesome earthy smell of grounding wet soil.

To use all our human senses helps to reconfigure the mind.

Even if I am not in the great outside, simply biting into a juicy apple reminds me to connect to the tree that it grew from. I do this with all the fresh produce I eat.

We are the rhythm of nature; we are not machines. When we become mindful about this then we reinstate the natural flow of us, and it is immensely healing.

 

I hope you find this helpful. With SUNNY wishes Emma x