Nature's teachings Archives

Pigs are Not Domesticated and May Bite

By Simone Lipscomb | September 5, 2013

There is a certain place on the highway toward the mountains where the forest opens up and there are the beloved mountains! It always makes me smile in my heart. Today was no different.

I haven’t visited the Smoky Mountains in a while due to the move last year and the process of getting settled. But a few weeks ago they were calling me and so I decided to visit after summer crowds were gone and before the masses of tourists in October–the busiest month of the year there.

It’s really a visit home for me. As a kid I loved these mountains with a deep, heart-felt joy. That hasn’t changed. I always feel ‘right’ here…in balance, at peace. Anchored in my skin. I feel that way on the Alabama Coast as well….but they are distinctly different ecosystems. And the mountains are not nearly as developed as the coast…which is almost totally developed, almost totally choked with houses, condos, restaurants….and on and on.

Like all wild areas, the Smoky Mountains speak to a part of me that is still wild and undomesticated. The wild woman within who likes to feel the squishy mud between her toes, warm sand underfoot, gaze out over a vast horizon at the edge of the sea and stand on mountaintops and feel the immenseness of space.

Today, while visiting the mountain farm near Cherokee, NC in the Smoky Mountain National Park, I saw a sign attached to the pig pen: “Pigs are not domesticated and may bite.” I thought of my wild woman self and realized she has that same potential. Don’t try to pen me up as I will bite…no ‘may’ about it.

I began to ponder the idea of domestication and immediately thought of computers and email and social media. While all can be useful tools, they can also be thieves that steal our wildness and keep us chained to a plastic box that squawks at us when someone is trying to contact us.

Sometimes we need to unplug and attune ourselves once again to the rhythms of nature…that magical, mystical web of life from which our physical bodies arise. It is home to us…it helps us reconnect with that from which we came.

I didn’t know what the day would bring as I motored closer to the most amazing biosphere of the Smokies. As I crested a ridge near Franklin, NC the fog–that living, breathing beast of white mist–rolled over the mountain to kiss my cheeks with moisture. Welcome home, daughter. Come play in the wildness. Come feel your Mother nurture you. Rest…explore…absorb the limitless beauty.

For the next few days, I am not domesticated and I will bite….but only if someone tries to put me in a pen.

It’s time to fly!

Seeing

By Simone Lipscomb | May 14, 2013

Last summer I spent nights sitting under a blanket of black sky twinkling with white stars. The sound of waves lapping on the sand and humid air hugging my skin brought me into the present where I experienced the wonder of nature. Sitting quietly awaiting the birth of sea turtle hatchlings, I was gently guided to recognize and harmonize with the magnificent natural world.

A few miles east, tourists wandered through souvenir shops looking for trinkets with which to remember their vacation. Perhaps few ever understood the biggest treasures could be found sitting on a quiet beach absorbing the peace and magic of the place. While the Gulf of Mexico and beaches affected them, maybe many left never seeing the beauty….the deep beauty…or feeling their connection to it, as part of it.

I wonder if that’s why humans can so easily ignore the plight of our planet. Collectively we see through eyes blinded with superficiality: Nice ocean, nice beach…oh, look a sea gull…wow there’s another tee shirt shop….let’s buy a $20 tee shirt to remember….nice flower….nice tree…too bad they are clearing them…gotta go to work…can’t save everything….oh that’s sad about the dolphins, let’s get a tee shirt with a dolphin on it….could I have extra plastic bags for shells….just put your cigarette butts in the sand they’ll dissolve….recycling takes too much effort….

There are probably many reasons humans ignore their connection to nature. I think we’ve specialized our roles in society and have forgotten that we are entirely connected and dependent on nature for our life.

Disconnect One: A farm half way across the planet grows food for us. A fisherman catches our dinner. We show up at the grocery store and connect to our food sources by perusing the air conditioned aisles. Most of us have no idea what it takes to grow enough food to sustain our own lives.

Disconnect Two: Collectively we have bought into the mindset that more is better. We consume at alarming rates. We feed the corporate mindset that more profit is vital and so resources dwindle at any cost.

Disconnect Three: We are too busy. Our collective pace is out of sync with the timing of the seasons and movement of the Earth. This is strongly connected to the ‘more is better’ mindset. We sacrifice ourselves to feed the ‘profit at any cost’ motto.

This reminds me of The Matrix movies where humans are only used for the energy they produce for machines. They are put into a dream-world of their choosing and exist in their minds in this place while their bodies are used only for what they produce. Sound familiar?

At some point individuals break out of their bondage and begin to see life as it really is in The Matrix. It’s not easy and they struggle but the reward is awareness, consciousness…awakening.

Our fate is determined by our choices…every day choices…by what we choose to notice, to give our attention to as that is what will multiply and blossom in our lives.

The birds are singing. My garden is growing…slowly, ever so slowly. The river is flowing. I breathe in slowly…I exhale slowly. My bare feet feel the warm soil. The leaves of the trees softly rustle in the breeze. Nature embraces me as its own. This, to me, is peace. This is a small beginning in learning to see beyond….

From Bog to Beach

By Simone Lipscomb | April 14, 2013

The crisp dawn air was a shock. What happened to spring? But soon the chill was forgotten as I found myself surrounded by carnivorous plants. The big, showy pitcher plant blossoms were obvious, but less so were the tiny sun dews that glistened in their dewy crowns. I wandered for over an hour allowing the light, plants and land to guide me.

Finding myself alone in such a unique ecosystem was surreal, but as I tuned-in to the energy of the plants I felt a tingle of dinosaurs and the cauldron of creation on this planet…so ancient did these plants feel. It was like taking a time walk through the natural history of the place before development and toxins and other human-created challenges faced these delicate, meat-eaters.

Overall winner of the race... — *Overall winner of the race…*

Then it was time to photograph runners at a very large mud puddle as they splashed their way through in the Jog the Bog run at Graham Creek Nature Preserve. Such an odd pairing of work. Documenting ancient, insect-eating plants at dawn and then humans as they slipped and tripped through a gigantic, muddy bottom. Both were quite fun.

And later, I visited my friend at her beach home and participated in our turtle team’s yearly training–in preparation for sea turtle nesting season. As the afternoon progressed, the sky became darkened with clouds and the Gulf began to draw me closer. I don’t know why storms draw me, especially considering my respect for lightning (having two very, intensely close calls with it will do that).

What an amazing area….pine forests, pitcher plant bogs and less than ten miles south, the Gulf of Mexico. These ecosystems, while different, depend on each other. Filtration and water holding is vital to a clean, clear Gulf. A strong dune system provides protection for inland areas. Wildlife, plant life, land and water share a connection that is part of a cycle of life. Freshwater, brackish water and salt water all creating different ecosystems yet part of a greater whole.

Wandering among carnivorous plants in a bog, communing with the Gulf and the clouds and shore reminded me of the interdependence of all life. As humans, perhaps we can learn from this amazing dance of connection, of being a part of the whole…as opposed to being apart from the whole.

The Wild Wind

By Simone Lipscomb | April 12, 2013

As I walked through the neighborhood this morning, wind was gusting outrageously. I was listening to music on my iPod and it seemed to match the intensity of the dancing tree limbs. I’m not sure any other element so profoundly calls me to embrace the dance of life.

Wind is changeable, powerful, gentle, destructive, cooling, warming….it announces storms before they arrive and kisses the cheeks of babes. As I was getting my nature time and cardio in during the pre-storm gusts, it called me to answer its power with my own inner power. Several times while walking I raised my arms and opened my hands to the sky. It felt like an affirmation of life, a big YES to the Universe. Thank goodness our neighborhood is mostly trees with only a few homes. Only the squirrels managed to glimpse my display of…of… WOO HOO!!!

Later I sat inside and watched the oak trees sway from my second story office window. Limbs and branches were highly excited and even the trunks were moving in their slow, steady back-and-forth shuffle. How amazing to witness the power of wind. It calls me to remember the wildness within and free myself to flow with life.

Love’s Grooves

By Simone Lipscomb | April 8, 2013

Each morning, as I walk my SUP board to the small river beach, I greet a beautiful, old cedar tree that stands on the bank. Its gnarled trunk is scarred with places where limbs used to be and the deep fissures in the bark invite my fingers to explore them and touch the texture with gentle regard.

This morning after paddling I walked my board up the trail and felt a gentle nudge from the grandmother tree to come back and visit. After settling my board on the grass, I returned and placed my hands on the trunk and looked up. What a massive tree, soaring far into the sky. Usually I see only the section I pass by, rarely stopping to notice the entirety of the tree.

We do that to ourselves and others. We focus on one small part of ourselves…normally some behavior or personality flaw we don’t particularly like…and obsess about that. Or with other humans we see something we don’t like and dismiss the person without taking time to view the whole person and their many good qualities.

If I only looked superficially at the cedar tree I might say it has a lot of scars and bumps and imperfections. But when I step back and gaze at its entirety I see such magnificent beauty and oddly enough, it is the flaws make it beautiful.

In my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips, I wrote a story about my grandfather and the depth of love’s grooves worn into our hearts by those we love. In taking a moment to visit the tree today I thought of that quote. People, wildlife, oceans, rivers, bays…all the things I have loved in my life have made an impression on me. There may be scars but mostly the memory of interacting with loved ones–people and animals–and wild animals and places has worn beautiful groves into my heart, that will remain forever.

Like the cedar tree’s beauty, our beauty comes not from perfection but from the imperfections we grow through and overcome and the impression love makes on our hearts as we risk opening them to love others.