Come out my front door with me. The chickens are enjoying my over-wintered kitchen garden.
Plain Old Chickens – photo art by Jane Valencia
I can’t help but turn some of the soil. The Easter Egger hen, Turtle Island, focuses her keen eyes on earthworms revealed … and other goodies.
Gardening With Turtle Island – photo art by Jane Valencia
A wander into the forest led me into communion with an emerging patch of Stinging Nettle. A number of Nettle tops return home with me, to give themselves as a delicious soup to my family.
First Nettles – Photo by Jane Valencia
What magic do you discover just outside your door? And where does that magic lead you? What your eyes and heart discern, what your ears pick up, and the scents your nose inhales — that mix of things you notice is unique to you. If you were to jot down what you notice with all your senses, and what memories and thoughts and emotions spring into your mind and heart, you would have a Map of You, a sketch of the terrain of your soul.
Go outside — or stay inside if you prefer. Look and listen. Feel and discern. The world is far more layered, far more personal than we imagine.
If you wish, please share a little about what you notice right now. If you feel brave or curious to do so, I invite you to make some guesses as to what of your inner ecology is revealed.
FoxTales No. 1 – written and illustrated by Jane Valencia. Shell and Leaves step out of the book Because Of The Red Fox into their own comic!
If you’re out with a child — especially with a young child — and you remove the shackle of clock time (so you’re wandering, no agenda, no pressing time commitment), the world around you reveals its true extraordinary state. Children will be drawn to all manner of things in the landscape, and will overlay their own bundle of stories and lore — whether it’s characters and lore drawn from books, movies, or anything else they like, or situations they’re puzzling to understand deep within. It’s like that for us grownups too, but we sometimes have to work hard to extract ourselves from our mental chatter to notice the wondrous around us.
In any case, a wander — especially outdoors (but it can be anywhere really), where you disengage from the press of time and commitment is an occasion for discovering that magic is everywhere, and that this magic is a mirror of our deepest natures. We are given enticing glimpses of our soul landscape, as well as the soul landscapes of the kids or other folk we are with.
The kid in you might point out that the magic you glimpse in what you notice in your surroundings is actually a clue to one of your “super-powers”. You could also say that the magic you notice reflects a glimpse of your gifts, your unique way of perceiving the world, a facet of your soul’s purpose revealed, or the jewel of your heart. Choose your language.
Tiny World – photo by Jane Valencia
Okay, so you have a “soul’s journey” aspect to your wanders. The other aspect is that in a true wander where you open your senses,and let go into the weave of the world, you enter an amazing conversation. You’re not just noticing things (rocks, plants, human-made things) that reflect an aspect of a nature, these things actually speak to your nature.
Suspend your disbelief if disbelief is starting to shout out to you right now. I invite you to engage in this possibility: that the world is alive with its own myriad intelligence (which can be very different from our human style). What if, when you notice something with curiosity, openness, appreciation, and wonder that it notices you?
Lupine Lens – photo by Jane Valencia
Even before that moment of noticing: what if you set forth in a state of wonder, curiosity and open senses. Could it be that if you do so, the beings of the world wake up to you? “Alert! Alert! Here’s an awake, open-hearted, curious human!”
What if, when something in your nature resonates particularly with the unique nature of another being, that that other being calls out specifically to you? “Hey! We have something in common! We’re in tune in a certain way.”
What if this being is calling out, inviting you to notice, inviting you into a conversation with it?“You’re pretty interesting. I like what I see you in how you see me. Do you want to play?”
Dragon Tree – photo by Jane Valencia
That’s how plants work in offering their best medicine, in my opinion. And I think if you are reading this post this far, you probably recall times when a mountain has called to you, or a cloud, a lake or sea, a mischievous breeze — or particular human-crafted things: a book, a doll or toy, a harp, a home, a _______ [you fill in the blank].
The thing to keep in mind if you are new to this thought, or don’t play in this sandbox very often, is — if you bring the shell, plant, rock, doll, toy home — to continue the conversation. And listen to when its time to let the thing go. When you’re conversation is done, return the being to the earth, or pass it on to another human who will take time to get to know it.
I’ll stop here today, but I want to emphatically state: The world is alive.
Here’s part of a poem I love by a 19th century Welsh bard, that underscores this idea for me:
In lovely harmony the wood has put on its green mantle,
and summer is on its throne, playing its string-music; the willow, whose harp hung silent when it was withered in winter, now gives forth its melody — Hush! Listen! The world is alive.
– Thomas Telynog Evans (1840-1865)
This is what being a magical naturalist is: to open your heart, to walk in wonder, and to view the world with what Annie in Because Of The Red Fox calls “Magic Eyes”.
Go out on a wander! What do you experience when you step into the world with “magic eyes” and an open, wondering heart? Please share your flights of fancy or other thoughts about wanders, the aliveness of the world for you, and more in the comment box below!
In times past, native folk on our island noted the start of a particular season by what was happening in nature. And that, in turn, linked the people to the appropriate activities of that season. With frogs back in song and the Indian plum almost-but-not-quite in flower, I note the emerging Dandelion flowers and Nettles, too few to harvest yet … but soon!
Lemon Balm returns: soothing to the spirit – Photo by Jane Valencia
Our Gregorian calendar marks time for us in a certain regimented way, but how does your body, your nature respond to our lengthening days, the buds on the trees and shrubs, the changing wheel of the stars? What round of activity is awakening in you too and how might that activity be an expression of the season?
Ask the kids in your life what they notice in nature at this time, and what they feel would be fun to do in this emerging season? What are they looking forward to? We are all tuned into the season — it’s written in our biology. And kids may not need us to tell them that “soon it will be time for …” (making Dandelion fritters, dyeing Easter eggs, etc.).
If you celebrate the season in any way — whether through sacred festivals or by way of excitement (to see birds returning from migration, to harvest and cook with delicious nettles in your soups and lasagne, delighting in the first blossoms in the shrubs or grasses) — kids will likely mention these things. And they too may have their own way of reckoning time, born from within, attuned to what speaks directly to their souls. Listen to what speaks to their heart and take note of what it is they uniquely celebrate.
Note too what you celebrate, that to which you are looking forward, the activities (despite your to-do lists) around which you find yourself coalescing. The way you reckon time has everything to do with the seasons of your soul and its unique ecology.
What’s “Now Showing” in your life: In the landscape around you? In your soul ecology? What’s alive for the kids in your life? Please share below!
Now Shoring In Forest Halls: Snow Drop Magic – Photo by Jane Valencia
