As we enter into Winter,
we can observe Nature releasing what She will
not require in the cold months ahead. Energy in
plants moves inward, growth slows and finally
stops. Leaves shed from deciduous trees and even
some evergreens' needles turn yellow. Frogs
aestivate and other animals hibernate, mimicking
something as close to death as to be mistaken by
the uninformed as death, itself. And indeed,
many life forms will and do die with the bitter
cold.
Ecclesiastes III says, "To
every thing there is a season, and a time to
every purpose under the heaven," including, "a
time to break down, and a time to build up; a
time to cast away ... a time to gather." Nature
seems well informed and accepting of how and
when to let go. It is a necessary step in the
process of renewal, regrowth and rebirth. We in
Western culture are less accepting of this
inevitable cycle of death, in fact physical
death is something we fear, reject, and
forestall at almost any cost.
Buddhism teaches the
practice of NONATTACHMENT, or the ability to
release what one no longer needs, so that a
person may differentiate between PERCEIVED needs
and real ones. All of us need a roof over our
heads, food to eat, and clothes to wear. Yet
knowing how and when to LET GO is difficult in a
culture based on consumerism, a process whereby
we are conditioned to endlessly GATHER and
STRIVE. Consumerism fuels the economy we have
created to the degree that many of us do not
know where to stop in the gathering. Much of
this gathering is focused on the material and
monetary. Paradoxically, our CURRENCY is labeled
with the epithet "In God We Trust," suggesting a
kind of surrender to the Divine and faith in its
ability to provide for us, even as we are
SPENDING this currency to assure SELF provision.
According to Webster's, trust is synonymous with
faith, the "unquestioning belief that does not
require proof or evidence." Yet even those of us
who PRACTICE faith do not always trust. We pray,
ask, look for signs that
our prayers have been
answered and, failing this, we attempt to figure
out and control the outcome of events and
circumstances. I'm not saying this makes us good
or bad as people. It's simply the way we've been
conditioned to operate in a stressful,
competitive society.
We compete with others in
the workplace, we compete with Creator in
providing what we perceive we need, and need
NOW. Even though we have been assured, time and
again through scripture and sacred texts of all
persuasions that our prayers are absolutely
answered and that Creator provides for all our
needs, few of us have engendered the patience of
Bear or the trust of Birch that food sources
will be renewed and that leaves will bud again
in the Spring.
Nature can be a great
teacher and healer, if we observe Her long
enough. As the sun rises, it also sets. Electric
lights have broken our natural circadian rhythms
where we sleep and arise with the light provided
by Creator. More often than not, we fall into
bed exhausted, sometimes requiring medication to
do so. We crank our eyes open with
sleep-shattering alarms, busy minds and
caffeine. After years of this kind of abuse, we
then wonder why our bodies start betraying us.
Real healing, as opposed
to crisis intervention, begins with getting back
to basics. We are blessed in this area of the
country to live close to Nature. Many of our
dwellings hug the forest or overlook a vast
green ocean. We can learn to let go by observing
Nature's cycles, the tides coming in, going out.
We can sit, breathe, and visualize ourselves as
part of the cycle of death as Winter approaches,
letting our stressful thoughts and worries flow
out on that same breath. We can embrace change
rather than fight against it.
Especially this time of
year when Fall projects seem endless, we can
realize we might not finish everything, but what
we complete will be enough. We, like Chipmunk
and Frog, will survive. Like Pine, part of us
will continue greening, while like Maple, part
will fall away. It is all in Creator's plan. And
we human beings play an important part.
As more of us become
engaged in a reflective process whereby we
allow ourselves time
to simply observe Nature and let go of busyness
and distractions, we honor the circle of life on
which wholeness depends.
Petty annoyances may
evaporate on the out-breath, and eventually we
may find larger aggravations hold less power
over us. As we attune our hearing to Loon's last
cries, knowing we will not be graced by her
beauty again until Spring, we become more
trusting of the ebb and flow of inevitable
changes in our own daily living. We become more
open, more accepting of the cycle of life. When
we embrace life's cyclical nature, we honor the
valuable process of death, as well.
We know that after dying
to false hopes and expectations, we receive new
life, fresh energy with which to regenerate and
renew. One cannot exist without the other.
