Heavenly Imperfection
Nature's blessed rescue from the dredges of cultivated life.
When I find myself lost in the disconnect between what is, and what my mind says should be, nature is my medicine. The depressing treadmill of a “well-managed” life can snare me–a never ending search for a non-existent destination. But thank you, God, for the messy, untamed landscapes that draw me. Beautifully rustic places, filled with stuff that’s unkempt—drying and withering, seeding and spreading, mixing and tangling.
The trap of comparison and perfectionism is my nemesis. Such a deep-rooted confusion as to why My LIFE–my body, mind, people, house, job–are not in agreement with what I desire, and endlessly work to “create.” It arrived yesterday– in the form of resentment at my beloved offspring, stains in my carpet, things that needed fixing, a frustration with my crusty old dog and his quirks. It went full blast when I turned on myself–looking in the mirror, cursing my tired and aching body, and scorning my lack of productivity. There was such an edgy discomfort that I changed plans. Instead of heading to the gym, I came back to the words of one of my favorite meditations, by Sarah Blondin:
"Although things can feel chaotic inside of me, there is a foundational peace. And the only way to get to that is to walk toward and through the very wildness of my own being.”
And with that, I sought refuge in my favorite wild place–a nature preserve just down the street. What truly amazes me is that the more time I spend here, the more beautiful it becomes. I don’t focus on the fact that I’ll never see it in its maturity, or that the path I walk is just a bunch of mowed-down weeds, or that there is dog/coyote poop everywhere, or that biting bugs lie in wait. This sweet, scrappy patch of earth has become such an anchor, and with every visit, I become more enchanted. Best of all: it’s fully accessible, wide open, and free.
As I walk, putting one sore foot in front of another, breathing and sneezing, tears stinging my eyes–reality literally hitting me in the face–a blessed clarity and calm starts to seep in:
“Natalie, you love this space because it’s who you truly are. You are all of this, the messy, the untamed. You are full of life, while feeling a million deaths. You are surrounded by an infinite sky, an all encompassing atmosphere that easily holds every shade and shape of you. You are a part of it, and this is all within you. Breathe it in, and it will teach you how to love what is authentically imperfect in you.”
I begin to see it: the allure of this exquisitely delicate, intricate, and ever-changing masterpiece. And as the wind blows, the grasses, dried stalks and blooms, and all the limbs with their few rustling leaves start to sway. It’s as if life itself is waving me in, showing me the way. A miraculous shift, a heavenly embrace of what IS. I know—I am whole, I am loved, I belong, and I’ve come home.