There was a time when I spent most of my days out of doors, walking and sharing in the wonder of rivers, lakes, forests, hidden streams and entering the voiceless backdrop of a bustling city. Behind the city stage, lay the depth of life itself – that which allowed for life – voiceless yet throbbing with life.
It was in these wild spaces that I could find my larger place, opening to a language known in my bones.
As inner city wilderness guides, we (myself and two other women collegues), took children of all ages through the hidden wonders of the natural world in the city. The youngest seemed the closest to the breathlessness of it all. The older children seemed to already be inside of a still thin, disconnected frame of perception that cut them off from the organic lifeline.
Memories of how the sun would shimmer on the open lake waters and the landings of the Great Blue Herons would grace the silent throbbing scene still nourish me in a place beyond language – a place full of rich, fertile ground.
It was during these days that songs floated into my being; suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere. The songs flooded in – non-stop. I shared with gusto to my team of guides who weren’t as enthusiastic as I. Even so, I went on receiving with little or no understanding of what was happening to me as no one seemed to think anything of it.
Upon reflection, I was connected ecstatically to the life around me – open to what it unabashedly wanted to share. I was a receptor and translator as the songs came in words which were stimulated by the natural areas where I found myself.
Time spent in nature, feed all dimensions of being. When the natural world begins to speak to us, we know that we have opened beyond our personal identities to our natural beingness. In this, miracles happen as we touch the unknown and allow ourselves to be touched by it.