I Know Enough to Know That I Have Been Recharged

There is something satisfying about tilling the Earth (or a very small portion of it) by hand.

I didn’t do that today, but there’s something satisfying about that.  Actually, I did that last weekend.

I’ve wanted to write this post for a weeks or so now, but the words just aren’t coming out right.  At some point, when there is something to say rattling around in your brain, you are just best served releasing it.  So, that’s what I’ll do.  Release it.

Most of the time, “communing with nature” conjures images of a cabin in the woods or a lone adventurer braving the tundra on their own or being stranded on a desert island with nothing but your wits, a UPS package, and a volleyball named “Wilson.”  For me, it’s usually something more mundane, like mowing the lawn or edging the yard of tilling the Earth by hand.

I think it partially comes down to a groove, a “zone,” if you will.  Maybe “flow;”  I’ve heard it called that before.  Whatever it is, it’s when I lose my thinking mind in the act of repetitive, demanding physical activity.  When my body and my thinking brain go into auto-pilot mode, my consciousness fires up.  I feel a connection to something outside of myself, and I go someplace…else.  It’s hard to explain, but there is no need to explain.  Just mentioning it should be enough; I haven’t met a person who hasn’t been there before.  In fact, most of us know precisely what it is, precisely what it feels like, and precisely how to get there.

That is where I go when I engage in the act of interacting with the Earth.  

I know; it sounds…goofy.  I have been called far worse things in my life.  And I know that not everyone believes that we, as humans, can easily connect ourselves to the greater Universe around us.  And I do mean the Universe.

Communing with the Earth is easy.  Communing with Nature itself is a little more complicated, but it’s still relatively easy.  Go to Yellowstone.  That’s about as easy as it gets.  But communing with the Universe…that seems a little harder.  I don’t know what that looks like for other people, of course, but I know what it looks like for me.  And I know that the door to that starts with my hands in the soil…figuratively and literally.

And where does this lead?  I don’t know exactly.  All I know is that I don’t go there with enough frequency.  When I do, though, it’s totally exhilarating, totally cleansing.  And when I arrive at that apex, I find myself subliming into something that reaches farther out into the Vastness than even I can comprehend at this juncture in my existence.  But I know enough to know that I have been recharged,