Nature's Teachings Archives

Garden Time

By Simone Lipscomb | April 16, 2013

How much grass is in a bit of land eight feet by twenty feet? After three days of intermittent hard-core shoveling, kneeling, sorting and sweating I am no closer to knowing how much sod it takes to cover that much ground but I do know how much fuller my compost bin is after hauling the final remnants of grass from my new garden space.

I live under live oak trees with very little sunny areas for growing vegetables or sun-loving flowers so the decision to take this small strip of grass and turn it into a place to grow food and flowers seemed the next step in rebelling against the corporate mindset that seduces us into believing we have to purchase our food from a box or can that has been adulterated with toxic chemicals, petroleum-based fertilizers and genetically altered food. The only grass that had to be mowed on my property is now being composted. So I’m saving fuel, creating less carbon emissions and I’m growing food…and food for my soul–flowers.

It was grueling work that was aided by heavy rainfall that softened the soil. There was a window of opportunity that would close once the ground became dry. So hours were spent on my knees listening to song birds, hawks, the neighbor’s chickens and rain drops dripping from branches. My mind relaxed and I sank into earth time. If I tried to rush it seemed little progress was made; however, once I paused and intentionally connected with that slow, steady heartbeat of the planet, it seemed as if the task progressed quicker. Ah….a good lesson.

During the hours of manual labor my mind brought up questions to ponder. Probably the most important was this: What would it be like if we let go of roles we think we should play and simply were present to enJOY relationships? Or jobs? Or places we live? What if we let go of the need to assign a task to ourselves, a reason for being….and simply enJOYed life?

How often do we validate our worth by the role we play? Or think we should play? What if there really are no roles we are asked to act out? What if our ‘value’ simply comes from being present..with ourselves…with others…with the planet….with life! Why do we believe we have to ‘serve a purpose’ to another person? Isn’t just being present enough?

Obviously I spent a LOT of time digging and sorting over the past few days and have pondered many questions. The rhythm of Earth Mother pulled me deeper into my body, into relationship with Her and in the process helped me gain understanding. Perhaps my new little patch of freshly planted soil will bring more than vegetables and flowers. Perhaps my new path to healing and wholeness is garden time.

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.

The Questions We Ask

By Simone Lipscomb | February 20, 2013

Florida Manatee posing for a candid photograph

Yesterday I watched a news video relating the story of a family that abused a baby manatee. By abuse I mean the dad pulled it out of the water, hugged it, placed his small children on it while it was half out of the water and who knows what other torments. All of this was documented by photographs and posted to the dad’s Facebook page. A Facebook friend turned them in to Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission. The dad was arrested.

It is suspected that the baby manatee was already suffering cold stress from the recent chilly weather so the abusive handling most likely further stressed the calf which could easily lead to its death.

So. what’s the big deal? Manatees are one of the most endangered species in our area. They estimate the population to be around 5000 individuals. Reproduction rate is slow, many are killed and seriously injured each year by boat propellers. These are the biological answers, the scientific answers that support the very strict rules of conduct that are enforced by law enforcement agencies charged with protecting wildlife listed under the Endangered Species Act.

He checked out my dry suit, my fins, my snorkel, my camera...always learning more about humans, these little ones. — He checked out my dry suit, my fins, my snorkel, my camera…always learning more about humans, these little ones.

To fully understand this question one must journey deeper to the ethical and moral foundation of how we treat species other than our own. Manatees are very gentle, curious creatures with friendly dispositions. Given the fact that humans have nearly decimated their populations, they are incredibly trusting of us.

In a recent trip with a group of women to Crystal River, Florida, a juvenile was persistent in forcing an interaction with me. I believe in passive observation only and don’t ‘pet’ them. If they want to nose around my dry suit, play with my camera housing or suck on my hair, I don’t mind. But I don’t encourage the contact by excessive touch. I want them to be wild for their own good.

But this little one refused to leave me alone until I lowered my camera and held my hand out in the water. She swam to my hand and laid her head snugly in my palm and we maintained eye contact. My heart and entire being was open to the connection and it felt as if we crossed space and time where different species gain understanding and trust. After I gently pulled my hand back and swam on, I sobbed into my mask and thought, why do these animals trust us when their near-destruction is at our hands? I felt honored and blessed and as usual, deeply changed from the interaction.

So the story of the recent abuse of a baby made me nearly crazy with grief. The family had no concept of respect for the baby, no understanding that this darling manatee child was such an important link in the recovery of a seriously endangered species. I weep for this and all ignorance with which humans continue to destroy our beautiful planet–ourselves. As a collective it seems we see no connection between ourselves and other species, rivers, oceans….How did we become so separate from nature, from each other?

A dear friend of mine had a wonderful solution. He suggested that the family be ‘sentenced’ to work in a manatee rehabilitation center so they can truly understand the fragility of these gentle beings. Of course! What an amazing idea. For, as he said, we are taught by example. We learn from others. What better way to understand another species than to be taught directly by them. We can truly and profoundly understand another by helping them heal their wounds.

I think they see the reflection in the housing port...they are truly fascinated with cameras — I think they see the reflection in the housing port…they are truly fascinated with cameras

And this idea is applicable with all species, including other humans.

It is time to start asking the right questions and devoting ourselves to the healing of all beings. For that truly is how we learn about their suffering, their challenges. When we learn compassion, seeds of peace are planted. And that can only lead to a better world.