This morning during my nature meditation, I became aware once again of the importance of, as Natalie Goldberg has taught, of “caressing the divine details” (seeing with the eyes of the heart). Beholding my surroundings in this way led me to a state of continuous unbroken awareness.

There was a flash of realization that  “civilized humanity” is largely at odds with Mother Nature. As we become present and aware, we naturally bring humanity back in alignment with nature. Now is the time.

We’re all indigenous now.

When a seeker experiences the bliss of his own true nature, he ignores what is seen and heard, and stills his mind like a flame where there is no wind. This is called nirvikalpa samadhi.

— Shankaracharya, Vakyasudha 26

Underneath the narrative of your life, just below the grand storyline, even beneath the colorful emotional landscape, there exists a rich, mysterious world of sensations – a somatically-organized field of intelligence and creativity. It is so alive, a timeless environment of wisdom, clarity, and majesty – but is not organized around the very compelling story of ‘me.’

Despite the vastness, it can also appear a bit disorienting to the mind that is scrambling for ground and a future moment. For within the mandala of the inner body, there are no ‘problems,” and nothing to be fixed, understood, transformed, or shifted. There is only an untamed fire of presence.

Each sensation, each surge of emotion, each wild, untamed feeling – the intelligence of the universe is here. Inside you is the erupting creativity of the sun and of the moon.

— Matt Licata

DAYS AND DAYS WITH A STORY satisfies my longing for more uncanny compassionate performances. Simple images become revelations. The landscape arises as bait for the hook of intelligence. A random event or a small detail reboots deep respect for stories to be told, before white washed editing and political or literal interpretation rests on understanding. The dream of the dream is internal awakening when met with patience and deep listening.

—Laura Simms

Book of Hours II, 16 

How surely gravity’s law,
strong as an ocean current,
takes hold of even the strongest thing
and pulls it toward the heart of the world.

Each thing –
each stone, blossom, child –
is held in place.
Only we, in our arrogance,
push out beyond what we belong to
for some empty freedom.

If we surrendered
to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.

Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused.

So, like children, we begin again
to learn from the things,
because they are in God’s heart;
they have never left him.

This is what the things can teach us:
to fall,
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.

-Rainer Maria Rilke from Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, trans. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy

We are inherently worthy, and the best thing we can do for ourselves and others is to know that.

The old threads are unraveling,
Get your needles ready.
We are stitching a new quilt
of humanity.
Bring your old t-shirts,
worn out jeans, scarves,
antique gowns, aprons,
old pockets of plenty
who have held Earth’s treasures,
stones, feathers, leaves,
love notes on paper.
Each stitch
A mindful meditation.
Each piece of material
A story.
The more color the better,
so call in the tribes.
Threads of browns, whites,
reds, oranges
Women from all nations
start stitching.
Let’s recycle the hate, the abuse,
the fear, the judgment.
Turn it over, wash it clean,
ring it out to dry.
It’s a revolution
of recycled wears.
Threads of greens, blues, purples
Colorful threads
of peace, kindness,
respect, compassion
are being stitched
from one continent to the next
over forests, oceans, mountains.
The work is hard
Your fingers may bleed.
But each cloth stitched together
Brings together a community.
A world, our future world
Under one colorful quilt.
The new quilt of humanity.

~Julia Myers

It is often true that the best things we do in some strange way take place within us long before we come to the ground itself. The physical domain of the country had its counterpart in me. The trails I made led outward into the hills and swamps, but they led inward also. And from the study of things underfoot, and from reading and thinking, came a kind of exploration, myself and the land. In time the two became one in my mind. With the gathering force of an essential thing realizing itself out of early ground, I faced in myself a passionate and tenacious longing– to put away thought forever, and all the trouble it brings, all but the nearest desire, direct and searching. To take the trail and not look back. Whether on foot, on snowshoes or by sled, into the summer hills and their late freezing shadows– a high blaze, a runner track in the snow would show where I had gone. Let the rest of mankind find me if it could.

–John Haines, The Stars, the Snow, and the Fire

Identification with the mind and emotions is the reason we feel disconnected, fragmented, and in opposition.  By watching the breath for some time,  we gently release this identification and enter the world where everything is connected. (Just return to watching the breath when you find that you have forgotten.)