Nature knows…
By Cara Chang Mutert
This year marked my 35th wedding anniversary with my husband and life partner, Rob. Along with our whole family, we returned to the site of our vows, lakeside in the mountains of Montana. It’s a special place to all of us, and a family tradition we commit to taking every 5 years. Although national parks are now more populated than they once were, the majesty of the mountains, the vastness of the big blue sky, the clarity of the water, the diversity and community of wildlife, and the vibrant wildflowers are still such great teachers.
When I’m close to home, I love a short wandering walk for a quiet quick reset, but longer, vacation-hikes usually have a story. On most of these hikes, about halfway up (when I realize I need more cardio), the path I’m hiking usually starts to mirror my life. There’s the physical challenge of the uphill climb, the twists and turns of the path, and the random roots, stones, and snake holes that show up out of nowhere. Facing the unknown of what’s ahead, the mosquitos and the bears, (yes, we saw a bear up close!) not to mention the uncertainty of the weather, and the technicality of the slippery rocky downhill, it all resembles life. Every step must be mindful.
Standing below the towering trees, overlooking miles of peaks, layered rock formations, giant boulders, waterfalls, and rivers, you realize they all have such rich stories. They’ve withstood hundreds of thousands of years on this planet, yet we will never know what they’ve endured. All we know is, they’ve been through it and survived.
We, too, have all been through it and survived.
Just like the trees and mountains, we live in the same world, yet we experience our lives in the private universe of our own inner worlds, unknown to everyone else. As humans, we each live our unique lives, in our own minds. And like the mountains and the forest, we’ve seen our ups and downs, hardships and losses, the mundane and breathtaking. Nature takes its course. The difference with us though, is rather than accepting what we must face, we tend to think we have a choice about what comes next. And this very human tendency to think we can control everything can seriously mess with our heads.
To make things worse, the internal debate between control and doubt creeps in and intervenes, “What should I do? Is this the right decision? Maybe I should do this? What if I choose differently? Maybe I should do nothing? What will people think? What worst-case, worry-inducing thing could happen next?” The neurosis of our thoughts and the “what if’s” can drone on and on.
But… when we pause to reconnect with ourselves with the conduit of nature as to our tool, we can quickly return to the present, to what is ok, right now. When we become aware of our surroundings, and quiet down enough to notice what’s happening around us and within us, we can begin to breathe more freely and see more clearly.
That too is what we experience in yoga. Through the process of focused asana, breathwork, meditation, and rest, our minds and bodies naturally shift away from our mental preoccupations of wanting and clinging. We move into our natural state of balance and equanimity; a feeling of wholeness, a remembrance of who we are, and a sense of quiet contentment. It's a return to who we know we really are, without the confines of our labels and expectations of yourself or to please others.
The grounding, healing, and rejuvenating effects of both yoga and nature can bring us back to an unburdened sense of self. Both reflect the lifecycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth, as well as our natural propensity for survival. The natural wonders of this planet never cease to amaze me, inspire gratitude in me, and best of all, shift my struggles back into perspective. Like the thirsty yet still vibrant wildflower holding on to that last drop of morning dew, I know I (and you too) will be ok.
My whole world…