My friend, Anita, always turns to nature when she is upset. A walk in the forest soothes her soul. My connection with nature has evolved during the last five years or so, and probably became real when I was drawn into relationship with wild red-tailed hawks. I couldn’t believe they came to me, that they cared about me and were willing to communicate on some level. As I look back, it was as if I wasn’t only a human and those extraordinary birds weren’t only birds. We came together in some greater scheme of things.
To long-term nature enthusiasts, what happened with me and the hawks may seem like a small thing. In fact, I have envied people who love and communicate with nature, people who care about the wondrous natural-network of our world and speak and act on Mother Earth’s behalf. Mankind’s destruction of the network weighs heavy on me—perhaps it is partly the weakened state of my physical health, but I give thanks to the heavens for people like Peter White who teaches when we connect with nature, we connect with ourselves.
Dr. Michael J. Cohen offers The Natural Systems Thinking Process, teaching that Earth herself is a living organism. He is the author of ten books, including The Web of Life Imperative and Educating, Counseling and Healing with Nature. There are thousands, tens of thousands—if not hundreds of thousands—of people working on our world’s behalf. She deserves our love and gratitude for our lives, not poisoning.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago I had a dream in which I could see my hopes and dreams flying away from me, and then I was lying on the floor, a wooden cross on top of me. That day, it came to me that I chose this life before I was born, that giving up what I want is my cross to bear, a karmic weighing and equaling of sorts.
I have dealt with depression all my life, but more so over the last 15 years, since I became ill. I suppose that dream was to help me better understand myself and my life, but I have to confess that depression got a hold on me. It’s like looking through one of those old coke bottles, only the glass is dark. Everything is distorted through the thick, wavy glass.
I wrote here on April 14th (three posts down) about my friend, Silvine, an ash tree, whose soul/spirit I saw in a dream, and though the tree is towering and majestic, I saw her essence as petite, wiry and elvish-looking. This touched me at a deep level—again that a being of nature cared about me and reached out to me in a form I could recognize. Night before last, while Roxie and I were out for the last walk of the day, I was again drawn to this wonderful tree. I put my arms around her and asked, ”Silvine? I’m really sinking here. Can you help me? If this isn’t within your realm, that’s okay, too. I love you and thanks for everything.”
Much to my surprise, I woke up yesterday morning singing. Shocked is more like it. I’ve enjoyed being around trees and sending my blessings to them as thoughts; I had no idea they could heal us like that—this was not a remedy squeezed from a root or leaf. This experience has caused me to see the web of life, the natural network in a whole new light. Here we confused humans are, thinking we’re the ones in charge . . .