How does your spiritual practice support you during the hard times?
The cottonwood fluff is floating in the air, filling the landscape with white puffs that meander gently on the breeze, carried where the winds take them. Even though their touch is light, their impact can be felt as the fluff goes everywhere. It’s both magical and abundant in nature.
Observing Nature as a Spiritual Practice
I find myself soothed as I watch it float. My mind is calmed by the way it spreads, and I can’t help but liken this to a lot of the lessons I am currently learning about well-being and happiness. I’m taking a course that has me thinking about how we propagate hope. The class has me thinking about how to nourish positive attitudes. So much of it is aligned with what I hold true in my spiritual practice. Cultivating mindfulness is key to being a better witch. At least it is to me.
What and how one cultivates mindfulness is entirely up to the individual. But I believe that knowing how the mind works (its nature) is vital to being a magical worker. The language we use around this changes. These days, we talk about this a lot under the umbrella of shadow work (though I suspect that this is slowly falling out of fashion as I see it being used less and less as a term). When I started on this path, it was referred to as integrating your dark side, then it became “knowing yourself,” sometimes it is “doing the work”. I think we’re starting to move towards mindfulness more these days as well-being culture takes root. Regardless, the purpose is the same. It’s knowing yourself, all of yourself, the good and bad, and working to accept all of it as part of ourselves. In so doing, we become better equipped to navigate our perceptions, reactions, and choices in the world around us.
Applying Nature Observations to Life
My thoughts are like that cottonwood fluff. I cannot control where they will go. What they will impact. But my thoughts plant seeds that can turn in to great trees, so I need to recognize this. They have the possibility to harm or heal. As I navigate a complex work life situation, I find myself coming back to all that I have learned in my practice about the person I want to be. I find myself thinking about the aspirations I have for myself as a witch. How do I navigate a tricky situation with integrity? Can I honour myself and the boundaries I need for well-being, while also striving to create a healthy, collaborative workplace? How do I allow softness to guide me in a way that demands attention and sets the tone for kindness?
This isn’t a situation that can be held with martial force. In fact, I think the world right now might need to learn how to find the softer side of martial energies. But that is a different conversation for another day.
No, right now the season, the land, and nature are inviting me into gentleness and heart and I’m trying to heed that call. To remember that the land has deep lessons to teach and those lessons are being carried gently on the wind right now. From the whispering rustle of the leaves to the fluff that floats across the sky; now is a time to embrace a gentler touch and recognize that kindness can sow more seeds in this season.
How does my practice link to all of this?
Simply put, my practice teaches me the art of watching my mind and learning its nature. In doing so, I am able to see my reactions. In this case, seeing how strongly I am reacting prompts me to stop and stand back to watch what is at the root of the situation. I stopped to smell the flowers (or observe the cottonwood) only to realize that through observing nature, I was able to slow down long enough to find what felt true and right to me in the moment. While I want to rush in, tear down, and cut away what I don’t like – I recognize it will not serve. The wound will never heal fully and that nature has many ways of bringing about change, why not try a different one? One that spreads hope and joy? It might not work. Or it might take longer. But once they take root, cottonwood trees are huge, majestic, and can create space for greater biodiversity.
The fusion between nature and mindfulness are the core of my practice. They are how the God and the Goddess speak to me. Others might find the Divine in different ways. But for me, it is in those quiet moments of knowing and inner stillness that I hear the Divine and know what is true.
Right now, the Cottonwoods are teaching me a lesson. And I’m going to listen.
Want another post on learning from the land? Try this one