Better than any mirror | See yourself reflected in nature
I recently read that there’s a reason why we are drawn to gazing at the ocean. It’s not only the raw beauty, the crashing of the waves, the explosion of ions which elevate the mood, nor the sheer immensity before us. It’s because our attention is held by what we know. It’s said it provides a closer reflection of who we are, more than any mirror.
What do you think about that? I was floored.
I’d never heard it put exactly that way. Without the words to clearly articulate how I completely agreed, I knew it was true. When I look at the vastness of a star filled sky, the glowing Sandia mountains or a large tree I see the qualities, elements, and energies of my shared aliveness.
As a kid I’d sit out on the deck with my dad watching the sunset.
Look at how the trees sway and rock with the wind, he’d say. They are strong, rooted, upright, yet move easily and gracefully with the wind. They don’t resist or push. You’re just like them, strong, resilient, yet soft.
The force that it’d take to break them would be tremendous and potentially violent (violent by our human definitions because nature is not malicious, rather a teacher of neutrality). He’d take the opportunity every time we’d be in the country, either walking, watching or driving through. Look at that…what do you think this means….isn’t it interesting that flowers here are so delicate….From him I learned the power of observation, of stillness, and of presence. I’ve come to know and understand aspects of myself from my surroundings.
I could look outside my window right now and say everything is dead or dormant. How winter appears so bleak, cold, and miserable. And leave it at that. Yet I’d be missing what a sleeping garden can reveal. What is happening in an unobservable subterranean world? What is happening in the depth of my being?
Here’s the thing, when I look outside I’m reminded that everything has a particular life cycle. I’m able to witness one moment in a dynamic time thread, the beginning or end of which I cannot see because it doesn’t even exist. Some things may return, others may not. In observing what is, I extend my own ability to embrace decay, ephemeralness, silence, and rest. I shed layers and follow a heavy stable force which moves deep deep down.