Written 3/16/14
Nature It seems fitting, especially with spring so nearly approaching, to write on the subject of nature. Alfred, Lord Tennyson, once wrote that “in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” Indeed, there is a sort of buoyancy and jubilance in the air as the sun returns and all creatures shake the frost and dew from their nests. Granted, of course, that our winter was dry, and our summer will be drier, but for this brief moment life is renewed amongst the trees, pines, animals, plants, and beings of the Earth. The return of the sun seems to herald a breath of fresh life into the world which asks only that we enjoy it. To that end, I encourage you: go out into nature. Find some peace and rapture there. Sit in silence with it and let it teach you how to live. It is a special thing, a magnificent thing. It is the very reason that I purpose myself to go out a-backpacking for many weeks this coming spring. Henry David Thoreau said, upon his excursion to Walden Pond “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Addendum, per 7/8/14: Having returned from my backpacking excursion, I recommend more heartily than before that people spend time in nature. Do not, however, set out to conquer it nor yourself. Let it consume you. Let it be greater than you. Let yourself become small, insignificant. As Jesus said “Look at the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin.” Let a tree’s centuries-long lifespan be a lesson to you: take it slow. Be supple and bend to the wind. Do not fear that you will continue to reach upward and upward towards the heavens. Let yourself die. Let yourself change. Not necessarily in that order. Remember that you are insignificant. Give life. Give shade. Let your radiance come from your simplicity.
Nature It seems fitting, especially with spring so nearly approaching, to write on the subject of nature. Alfred, Lord Tennyson, once wrote that “in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” Indeed, there is a sort of buoyancy and jubilance in the air as the sun returns and all creatures shake the frost and dew from their nests. Granted, of course, that our winter was dry, and our summer will be drier, but for this brief moment life is renewed amongst the trees, pines, animals, plants, and beings of the Earth. The return of the sun seems to herald a breath of fresh life into the world which asks only that we enjoy it. To that end, I encourage you: go out into nature. Find some peace and rapture there. Sit in silence with it and let it teach you how to live. It is a special thing, a magnificent thing. It is the very reason that I purpose myself to go out a-backpacking for many weeks this coming spring. Henry David Thoreau said, upon his excursion to Walden Pond “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Addendum, per 7/8/14: Having returned from my backpacking excursion, I recommend more heartily than before that people spend time in nature. Do not, however, set out to conquer it nor yourself. Let it consume you. Let it be greater than you. Let yourself become small, insignificant. As Jesus said “Look at the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin.” Let a tree’s centuries-long lifespan be a lesson to you: take it slow. Be supple and bend to the wind. Do not fear that you will continue to reach upward and upward towards the heavens. Let yourself die. Let yourself change. Not necessarily in that order. Remember that you are insignificant. Give life. Give shade. Let your radiance come from your simplicity.