This morning I stood on the back deck for my nature meditation. I watched my breath moving through my body while listening to the songs and cries of the birds, and as I did so, a gentle rain began to fall. I felt I was being tenderly caressed by nature.

When I came inside and looked at some artwork, I noticed how the details of the work came to me with great clarity with little effort of attention applied to the task.

By bringing my subtle awareness into play with my senses available– by breathing mindfully while beholding the world with my senses– my senses had become more acute.

I went outside with the camera to take a shot of one of the crabapple blossoms, and a visitor arrived, tenderly caressing the blossom.

It is sage advice, what William Wordsworth has said:

Every ecosystem in the world at one time had a people who knew it with the knowledge that only comes with thousands of years of living in place.

— Carol Black, schoolingthe world.org

Thanks to Sarah Barton.

I felt so still, and the flowers and green and trees seemed to be in the same state.   Yet this stillness revealed that everything is always changing—beings and relationships and the whole planet are in constant movement…

I see that the true voice comes from stillness, comes from the awareness that connects us with life.   I see that being connected in this way—inner life with outer world—is more powerful than anything I can say.

— Tracy Cochran, “The Power of Stillness”

Nothing is simple and alone. We are not separate and alone. The breathing mountains, the living stones, each blade of grass, the clouds, the rain, each star, the beasts, the birds and the inevitable spirits of the air– we are all one, indivisible. (There is) nothing that any of us does (that does not affect) us all.

— Frank Waters, The Man Who Killed the Deer

Our Aboriginal culture has taught us to be still and to wait.
We do not try to hurry things up.
We let them follow their natural course—like the seasons.
We watch the moon in each of its phases. We wait for the rain to fill our rivers and water the thirsty earth …
-Excerpts from presentation to the 2009 Parliament of the World’s Religions, Melbourne, AU

Chaos Ripples  by  Sharona Latoue

Across the pastures came the sound of a little water drum. But beyond, the dark pine mountain throbbed deeper…  And the beat, from deep within, from the heart of the world, pulsed steadily, inaudibly, like the beat of a man’s blood. Each was the echo of the other, indivisible. But they were not quite in tune… So the man could not sleep.

— Frank Waters, The Man Who Killed the Deer

This morning I went outside and sat on the warm stoop for my nature meditation. I immediately observed that the birch tree on the south of the grove had larger leaves. My mind took note and began to ruminate over this “fact,” branching out into related ideas.

Then I remembered: I am meditating, I am here to wake up. I am not here to submerge myself in the machinations of the mind. With some effort, I guided my inner awareness back toward itself, as I strove to maintain continuous unbroken awareness.

Even though I have been doing this practice for years, I still have to make an effort to wake up.

The different worlds are interfacing and contiguous, and one must relax completely (while awake)  to get into them.