Tag: Eco-Spirituality

When the Forest Rises Up

When the Forest Rises Up

John Seed once said, “I am part of the rainforest protecting itself.” He is the father of the Australian Deep Ecology movement and founder of the Rainforest Information Centre. The idea he shares is that we are One with all life and when we are open, we can take action as an extension of the Earth protecting itself. 

I first learned of John Seed when I spent a week with Joanna Macy and thirty other individuals learning about Deep Ecology and healing our disconnect from Earth. This was after I spent a year documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon Gulf of Mexico Oil Disaster and was emotionally and spiritually burned out, depressed, exhausted. Joanna helped me heal and open myself again to alignment with beauty.

Twenty-five years after the explosion of Deepwater Horizon, killing 11 workers and creating the largest oil spill in the history of marine oil drilling operations, I was hiking with friends on Alum Cave trail. Three days before Earth Day. We made it to LeConte Lodge and enjoyed lunch, sitting on a grassy area. One friend wanted to stay at the lodge, so the other friend and I decided to hike to Cliff Tops, a short distance from the lodge.

We almost left our packs with Pam, but decided to take them in case she wanted to walk around or visit the store. There are two trails to Cliff Tops and I led us up the longer one. As soon as we turned onto Cliff Tops trail, off of the Boulevard Trail, we smelled smoke and saw a billowing puff coming from a grassy area. Without looking at each other to talk about it or pausing a second, we sprinted through the woods toward the smoke and found an actively burning fire in a very poorly constructed circle of rocks. There was dry grass all around and high winds. Thank goodness we had our packs with our water supply!

Paige is a battalion chief in a fire department in Georgia and immediately took action. We emptied our water containers onto the fire and she instructed me to run back to the lodge and get water and let the lodge staff know what was happening. She continued to work on digging a proper pit around the fire while I ran back with her water bottles and the water bladder from my pack.

Once I arrived at the lodge, I instructed a guy to run tell the staff about the fire, where it was and our efforts to extinguish it. I refilled our containers and ran back up the trail. Paige had made considerable progress in extinguishing the fire, which was smoldering when I returned. She carefully used the 5 liters of water to cool the remaining hot areas. And then two gals from the lodge arrived with a shovel to bury the fire remnants with soil.

Never in my life have I felt like two individuals, one a fire chief, were so in the right place at the right time. The wind was blowing toward the lodge. One spark from that fire onto the dry grass could have created a loss of not only historic structures, but acres and acres of ancient forest, not to mention human lives and wildlife. The experience reminded me of John Seed’s quote….I am part of the rainforest protecting itself.

Paige & Simone

I met other hikers who ignored my request to bring their water to the fire, so perhaps they didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation or they weren’t consciously open to the call of the forest. I don’t know. But I do know that Paige and I love places like this and have a deep place of connection with them and all life. Perhaps that conscious connection allowed us to respond to the forest, allowed it to rise up through us to protect itself. 

When I reflect back on that moment, at the exact right timing, at Paige being there bringing her expertise to the exact location where it was needed, to my knowing where the closest water hydrant was located…I really do feel that somehow our openness and love of Nature called us to that intersection of need and skill. 

Imagine what can happen in our lives and in this world if many of us are open to using our skills and allow life to call us to that intersection where need and skill meet, not just once, but as a life practice. I believe the world could be transformed.

Simone, Paige, Pam
Cycles

Cycles

Laughter erupted spontaneously as the stars witnessed my sudden understanding. Photographing the night sky, whether through a camera and tripod or a telescope, is a master course in patience. You cannot force the stars to move any faster, if you are wanting to capture their movement to create a star trails image. You can’t stop clouds from moving in to obscure the galaxy the telescope is imaging. The moon won’t slow its rising to give another 10 minutes of dark sky. The sun won’t go down any faster to help you start the imaging session sooner. The laughter emerged when I realized I was having to embody the cycles and timing of Nature…to S L O W down and be present. A nearly constant message coming from every direction these days.

For months I’ve been ‘listening’ to trees. Or feeling trees. However a human might interpret that idea. To me, it’s listening to them. Why do humans go so fast? That’s the question I hear when I’m hiking among the old ones on the high trails. My answers have varied. Snow’s moving in, gotta make it to my car before the road closes. Wind’s picking up, don’t wanna be hit by a falling branch. It’s raining. I’m hungry. The list grows. 

But when I take the time to sit on the moss-covered, fallen tree, I meld into the forest. I slow down. I remember cycles. I remember to breathe. 

M 81 or Bode’s Galaxy

The stars teach me this, too. Inhale………..exhale. Pause. Inhale………exhale. Pause. Let go. Remember. 

Total Eclipse of the Moon

I am the cycles of Nature. I am the stars, the moon, the galaxies. They are me. We are part of a whole. Separation no longer exists. Peace comes….and then? The clouds creep in. And it’s okay. 

The Anchor Point

The Anchor Point

M 51–The Whirlpool Galaxy

“The stars serve as an anchor point of stability in a dangerous and ever-changing world.” This quote from The First Astronomers: How Indigenous Elders Read the Stars, sang in my mind last night as I stood beneath the blanket of twinkling beauty.

I don’t recognize the country that I dearly love. It has become a war zone of political insanity, with fear being the commodity propagated by the current administration. It’s unbearable to stay fully informed, but the small news bites I allow to filter through my boundaries, drive me deeper into the woods and cause me to linger longer under night skies absorbing the beauty and capturing it to share, with hope that it brings comfort to those who also need an anchor point of stability.

May we gather in beauty and celebrate it, in its many forms. It is possible, in that space of undeniable grace, that we may find each other again and come together in Oneness.


The First Astronomers: How Indigenous Elders Read the Stars by Duane Hamacher with Elders and Knowledge Holders.

The 1.15am Alarm

The 1.15am Alarm

Cloudy conditions were present when I went to bed, but my Atmospheric app insisted that by the time the lunar eclipse started, the sky would be clear. With complete trust, I set the alarm on my iPhone for 1.15am.

When said alarm gently awakened me, there was some grumbling perhaps akin to that of a black bear awakening in the spring. But I put on warm clothes and fleece-lined slippers and grabbed the telescope case and heavy tripod I left by the front door. The dogs joined me but only the hound decided to remain a faithful guard against mice rustling in the leaves of the woods or ‘possums ambling around outside the fence. My Buddy dog child returned to his warm bed inside the house.

The app was right. The sky was crystal clear and beautiful. The eclipse was already in process as I set up and fussed with the smart telescope a bit. It can be a bit sassy when I’m trying to hurriedly set up. There are always lessons in patience in astronomy.

Screen shot of what I see with the iPhone app while using the telescope

The Earth’s shadow gradually covered the full Moon and in that space of time, I became more joyful and filled with awe, a side-effect of watching objects in the night sky.

The end result was not only the beautiful, red color generated from the dance of the Moon and Earth. Millions of people came together in time and space to witness this wonder of Nature. In this time of chaos and conflict, that was perhaps a true miracle.

Stillness

Stillness

Telescope and the Orion Constellation

I was sitting under a blanket of stars last night. The milder winter temperature made it pleasant. The waxing crescent moon wasn’t too bright, so I could observe stars, and the moon gave enough light to see the gray shadows of rocks and trees.

Crab Nebula

Since playing with a smart telescope begin in December, I’ve learned the art of stillness. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I am learning the art of stillness. Taking an image of a far-away galaxy or nebula takes a while. Sometimes hours…but I’ve only done a 31 minute exposure thus far. There’s so much I want to see out there in the Universe so staying on one object for more than half an hour is challenging.

And I don’t want to go back inside the house while the telescope patiently records the stacks of images. Otherwise I could just rent telescope time from some far-away observatory while I sit in my home drinking hot cocoa and eating scones (as if I could afford that….but people do that…the renting telescope time, not eating scones and drinking hot cocoa). I want the experience of stargazing from underneath the sky, not my roof. The images are part of it, but the experience of awe under night skies…that’s my kick.

I always sense trees I connect with while hiking ‘say’…why are humans always in such a hurry…slow down and listen. I pause and stand with them, but rarely sit and ‘listen’ for more than a few minutes. 

Last night, I realized I was receiving the same message from the stars. So, I set up shots with the telescope, made sure it was working correctly by viewing it on my phone, and then placed my phone down on the ground under the tripod and watched the stars move ever-so-slowly across the sky.

Orion Nebula

Thirty minutes is a long time to sit and observe an image come into being. I’ll be honest, five minutes is a long time if you are used to being active person. Stargazing is helping me learn to slow down and operate from a different speed. 

My assignment is watching the stars move across the sky. Literally. Tracking stars reminds me that even the slowest, almost imperceivable movement is still movement and progress is being made. These experiences help connect me to deep time, that vast expanse of cosmic time, and that helps me move beyond the trappings of the chaos happening now in our world.

My growing edge is to embrace stillness…wherever I find myself. If possible, put my bare feet on the ground and connect directly to Her. Our Mother. Our Home.