On seeing changes in nature

The swallows are flying low over the fields and are more visible in noisy groups now. They prepare to depart, even though the weather is still very mild. I found it an interesting learning experience to watch them –  the sensation of  joy which I had in their movement  in the late afternoon sun  was immediately followed by a pang of sadness in the thought that they will soon be gone. How hard it is just to allow things be, as they are, without wanting to hold on or immediately adding on some extra thoughts! It is easy to know intellectually that all things change, often in ways that we cannot predict. However, knowing that deep in my bones and accepting it is not always as simple.   In this case,  acceptance was not too difficult to achieve  – swallows come and go in their own time and there is no way to stop them. So I am grateful for these Autumn changes  –  becoming more visible each day – as among the most important tools for learning which I have. They gently repeat,  over and over again,   many of the same truths. They allow me see how change has an effect on my moods and how I like to hold on. They show us how often I  relate to things depending on how they make me feel, rather than with complete freedom. I resist change each day but change is inevitable; my happiness is related to the way I choose  to respond to it.

Nothing is so fleeting as external form,

which withers and alters

like the flowers of the field at the appearance of autumn.

Umberto Eco

Not all growth is visible

If we can possibly learn to trust darkness, to understand that life is a pattern of starts and stops, of celebrating the past,  of coming to terms with the present and of believing the future to be kind, then we can come to understand that the dark parts are only those closing-down moments, like flowers at night, till the sun shines again……Darkness deserves gratitude. It is the alleluia point at which we learn to understand that not all growth takes place in the sunlight. Then we come to understand that God is at work in our lives even when we believe that nothing whatsoever is going on.

Joan Chittister, For all that Has Been, Thanks

Learning, deep down in our bones

I used to hurry everywhere, and leaped over the running creeks.

There wasn’t time enough for all the wonderful things I could think of to do in a single day.  

Patience comes to the bones

before it takes roots in the heart as another good idea.

I say this as I stand in the woods and study the patterns of the moon shadows,

or stroll down into the waters that now, late summer, have also caught the fever,

and hardly move from one eternity to another.

Mary Oliver, Patience

Patience with ourselves: Practicing without “should”

Some of us can accept others right where they are a lot more easily than we can accept ourselves. We feel that compassion is reserved for someone else, and it never occurs to us to feel it for ourselves. My experience is,  that by practicing without “shoulds”, we gradually discover our wakefulness and our confidence. Gradually, without any agenda except to be honest and kind, we assume responsibility for being here in this unpredictable world, in this unique moment, in this precious human body.

Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

…which we forget, when afraid.

When you are in the trance [of fear]… fearful thoughts and emotions take over and obscure the larger truths of life. You forget the love between you and your dear ones; you forget the beauty of the natural world; you forget your essential goodness and wholeness. You expect trouble and are unable to live in the present moment.

Tara Brach

A calming stillness…

The ancient rhythms of the earth have insinuated themselves into the rhythms of the human heart. The earth is not outside us; it is within: the clay from where the tree of the body grows. When we emerge from our offices, rooms and houses, we enter our natural element. We are children of the earth: people to whom the outdoors is home. Nothing can separate us from the vigor and vibrancy of this inheritance. In contract to our frenetic, saturated lives, the earth offers a calming stillness. Movement and growth in nature takes its time. The patience of nature enjoys the ease of trust and hope. There is something in our clay nature that needs to continually experience this ancient, outer ease of the world. It helps us remember who we are and why we are here.

John O’Donohue