Nature's Teachings Archives

On Being Real

By Simone Lipscomb | October 28, 2014

Masks make me uncomfortable. Not costumed masks but those invisible masks humans create to hide the truth of their being. I suppose that’s why my photography has almost exclusively focused on nature and wildlife…until a couple of years ago.

A conversation with fellow photographer and Frog Pond Sunday Social attendee about photographing musicians made me laugh and understand something about myself. I made the comment that I was much more comfortable with animals and nature and had never photographed people too much until I began focusing on portraits of musicians. His reply–“Well, they’re not that different from animals you know.” He said it to be funny and we had a good laugh but what he said is very true.

When musicians are really in the creative groove and are connected to their source of inspiration, they appear to be in an unmasked state of being. They seem to invite the audience to witness their journey and meet them in that place from which they bring forth beauty…and magic.

SimoneLipscomb (15) — Will Kimbrough, Corky Hughes & Grayson Capps

I’m basically shy and much more comfortable alone in the woods or underwater with my cameras. I discovered, while listening and photographing Robert Randolph, why I like photographing musicians.

I connect energetically with musicians when they bring forth their gifts through performance. It’s as if I can see beyond the outer appearance to their true essence and meet them there through my photography. It’s as if we make an unspoken agreement to share that space of truth.

When I photographed Robert, I squirmed my way to the stage to see the energetic and amazing performer who had a huge crowd of people dancing. He was channeling lightning, or so it seemed. He is a pedal steel guitarist and bringer of a dynamic force to all in attendance willing to meet him. Me? I stood there with a huge smile on my face. How could I not? His smile rocked the festival. As the intensely-loud music bounced through me (I was in front of massive speakers) and I focused on him with my camera, I understood my love of photographing musicians while they are playing.

Live music is one of the rare experiences where we can see humans engaged in the creative process. Musicians that are truly in their happy place allow their masks to fall away to expose a truer self. That’s probably what separates the really great musicians from the good ones…a willingness to tap into a higher expression of who they are in front of an audience. That’s no small thing. And that’s probably why I think of these same musicians as being like ministers….leaders who invite us all to a deeper yet higher place.

When I am standing in a river photographing elk headed straight for me, I feel a similar emotion as I do when photographing an expressive musician. I am much more comfortable with elk and other forms of nature but that’s because I don’t create a mask when I’m in nature or surrounded by animals.

Musicians are teaching me to shed my masks and meet them in the truth of the moment, where music melts walls of division and creates harmony of spirit.

Seeing

By Simone Lipscomb | September 25, 2014

From John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara

“To the fearful eye, all is threatening. When you look toward the world in a fearful way, all you see and concentrate on are things that can damage and threaten you. The fearful eye is always besieged by threat.”

“To the loving eye, everything is real. This art of love is neither sentimental nor naive. Such love is the greatest criterion of truth, celebration, and reality. Love is the light in which we see each thing in its true origin, nature, and destiny. If we could look at the world in a loving way, then the world would rise up before us full of invitation, possibility, and depth.”

Nothing Can Be the Same Forever*

By Simone Lipscomb | September 24, 2014

“Nothing can be the same forever.”*

When leaves prepare to drop from high perches of limbed stateliness, there is no grief, no sadness. Life wanes yet color transforms veined membranes of chloroplasts into wild symphonies of red, orange, yellow, peach. The glory of their life is in their transforming…their dying.

Death stalks us from our first breath so what if every inhale became a prayer, every sigh a song. What if we take our cue from wisdom of seasons and allow that which is complete a kind and compassionate death. No fighting, no resisting…..just surrendering to the process of change and flow. This is life.

Cycles of nature teach mindfulness of life’s seasons. Birth, growth, harvest, death. This is fullness of living. Grasping creates stagnation, suffering. Beauty is found in change–ebb and flow, dark and light. Breathing, exhaling. Moving, being still. Giving, receiving.

*Quote by Thich Nhat Hanh in the book Fear: Essential Wisdom for Getting Through the Storm

Music of the Spheres

By Simone Lipscomb | September 21, 2014

The live oak tree forest was quiet and tucked away from the busyness of life yet held an outdoor stage in its embrace. An open field provided a place for seating and the sounds of the night welcomed musicians and music-lovers alike.

Cool, refreshing evening air was heavy with dew and as we listened to outrageously good music anything not in motion was soon coated with moisture. The intense humidity and heat of the past several weeks had given way to the beginnings of autumn on the Alabama Gulf Coast. It was a great time and place to relax, enjoy music and visit with friends.

After a while of standing with a heavy lens and camera body, I began to tire. In addition, it was past my bedtime when Willie Sugarcapps began to play so I was weary and sleepy and had a two hour drive after it ended. So my chair called and the camera found itself snuggled into the pack.

Dreamer’s Sky began. Will Kimbrough’s new song is an upbeat, happy song with a bit of a jig sound with mandolin and fiddle. I closed my eyes and allowed the music to take me. The notes and words moved through my mind and suddenly I had the thought, The nature spirits are really digging this music. Then the image of two wolves dancing on hind legs came to mind. Then two coyotes, foxes, rabbits and all creatures of the wood came to my mind and I ‘saw’ them celebrating along the edge of the forest. Owls, squirrels, even earthworms were dancing with joy.

The vision brought sweet feelings of love and peace. I opened my eyes and looked into the velvet, night sky and saw stars and planets and I heard the words, music of the spheres. It was as if harmony was raining down like stardust on all who gathered, both human and non-human. There was an undeniable unity I saw in my mind’s eye and felt deeply.

I believe the only way we will heal ourselves and planet Earth is to be united in love and harmony. That unity comes from a positive connection we have not just with other humans but with all life. To the foxes dancing in the field or the owls doing a dance step on the tree branches. Or the neighbor of another color or religion.

A collective vision of harmony can change the world for the better. This is my dream, this is my vision. I place my hand in yours and issue an invitation to join in the dance, in the celebration. I hold the paw of sister wolf. I grasp the flipper of mother sea turtle. The owl talons and my hand unite. The fluke of the massive humpback reaches for my hand…and yours. We can dream a new way of living into being. It begins with harmony and learning to hear the music of the spheres.

Thank you Will Kimbrough for the music and to Grayson Capps, Corkey Hughes, Sugarcane Jane…Savana Lee and Anthony Crawford…for bringing it to life tonight via the Willie Sugarcapps ‘vehicle.’ And if you, kind reader, are wondering about possible substance-induced vision…the answer is no. No alcohol or anything that altered my consciousness except beautiful music…beautiful harmony.

Fog and Cold Water

By Simone Lipscomb | September 11, 2014

The final day of my re-wilding retreat began on Clingman’s Dome at an elevation of 6, 643 feet. The only day I chose to wear shorts and the air was literally a cloud of 50 degrees with high wind whipping it into frenzied, cotton-candy fragments. Thankfully I had fleece and a warm jacket and boots with wool socks that replaced my flip flops.

I wandered around the lower part of the trail and decided against a hike to the top. Dodging piles of bear scat deterred me, especially since it was densely foggy and I didn’t want to surprise a bear during his or her morning constitutional outing. If there had been other hikers I would have gone but there was simply too much bear energy afoot for me to venture up the steep trail with heavy camera and recording gear by myself.

But I didn’t feel cheated. I captured some sweet bird song with my new recording gear and even got some decent wind recordings. The images I took were also fun; however, it was simply the experience of being in the high elevation in a fogged-in situation that made it so lovely. Smelling the coniferous rainforest smells–the fir trees–always takes me to a higher level of experience. That smell is big Medicine for me.

I stood in the thick clouds, surrounded by white mist. My hair became drenched by the moisture and droplets could be heard falling from fir branches like rain. Blissful, sweet dawn…healing dawn.

After a while I made my way down from Newfound Gap and finally found myself under the clouds. The sun was bright and the air much warmer. I stopped at a favorite spot to send prayers of gratitude to Spirit and to the powerful presence of nature energies found in the protection of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

While wading in the clear, cold, rushing water I paused and placed my hands in the water. I felt the completion of a cleansing that began when I arrived a few days ago. With it came a renewed sense of joy. It’s amazing what these sacred mountains offer, the least of which is fog and cold water.