I have always loved nature. Our only family vacations took place in a little town in northeastern, Wisconsin where my great-aunt and uncle own a cabin. I was still in diapers when I started going there in the 60’s. Not much of a vacation for my mother, drawing water from a pump and heating it on the stove for dishes and diapers!
It is there that I meet something that will be my forever friend – the EARTH. I discover its creatures, all the creepy crawly bugs in the outhouse, the fish and crawfish in the lake and the bats that fly over our heads when the lights go out at night.
I learn that the sky reveals magic as we lay on our backs to watch shooting stars, or stay up long past bedtime to wait for the rising moon.
I am reading Wayne Dwyer’s book I Can See Clearly Now and he states that as he looks back over the course of his years, so much is revealed and the sequencing of events show an orchestrated plan.
It is with that same clarity that I can see clearly how nature has been my “go to” place for peace, for retreat and respite. Nature is the free gift I am given after my husband dies and it is essential to my healing.
I take my grief out in the wind, and as I close my eyes and let it whip across my face, I remember that despite my heartache, I am still alive.
Walking through nature trails or riding my bike, I stop when I see a hawk flying overhead or something catches my eye, and for a moment I escape from my pain. I let go of my loss when I immerse myself in the comfort of my familiar outdoor friends.
My husband’s death was devastating, exhausting and I couldn’t imagine how I could begin to heal. Looking back, my instinct took me outside and back to the earth, a place I find balance.
My son and I invite friends over for outdoor picnics, we go to the local quarry where we swim and splash in the green water and I release my tears – sending them back into the earth. When it rains, we get out umbrellas and play outside.
What do we do in the puddles that are left? We play in them of course! And when I see my son’s face, I forget for a moment about my loss, and I thank Mother Earth for all the gifts she gives.