Closer to the Core
When you are drowning in the despair of your own making,
the soft bark of the cedar is looking for you.
Find a way to drop deeper into the heart of it all.
The flutes of the mountain are crying.
The birds are gliding through the trees.
The roads are being cleared of the pesky debris.
Wake up to the many shades of love in this moment.
You are a star seed visiting this realm, and being
carefully woven into a scintillating story.
You are not your thoughts, preferences, or even, your values.
Do not mistake the branches for the roots.
Put your back to the cedar and feel the solidness of the bark
pulse in your chest.
No matter where you are, there are deep roots
holding you in place.
Devote yourself to communing with the world
through beautiful gestures.
The warblers have honored the mountains for generations,
by simply fluttering from pine to cedar.
There is no need for elaboration, just attention.
Start with the notes you know and let your heart find the tune.
Don’t bother with grandiosity when simplicity will do.
Be sure to greet the spring time that will surely come soon.
Exhaustion. Burn out. Anxiety. Our modern world is a cess pool of incessant necessities. To do better, to be better, to know better. We are all very anxious. Can we can accept that, and not have shame, like the fish that does judge herself for having gills? Our increased heart rate, constricted blood vessels, and dilated bronchi are the fatigued machinery of survival in our fast-paced world. An overstressed body is the default coping mechanism used in our individualistic society that divides us from our hearts, our communities, and our own attention. Anxiety is something that keeps us alert and aware of a deadline we might miss (rendering us close to dead without our job), or potential threats to our relationships (insecurities, or jealousies). When we can meet anxiety on its level, as a mistaken way of staying alive and not losing the relationships we need to survive, we can accept it and give it some much needed love.
“ Our increased heart rate, constricted blood vessels, and dilated bronchi are the fatigued machinery of survival in our fast-paced world.”
Something that helps me regulate when I am anxious is to go outside and give the entire weight of my body to a tree. I allow myself to take deep belly breaths and imagine that I am synchronizing my breath with another kindred being that is absorbing CO2 and exhaling oxygen through tiny pores in its bark and leaves. I allow my vocal cords to open, sending low vibrations through my entire body, like a cat purring. I shake my body, like a gazelle that just finished outrunning a lion and is letting the survival energy release through her twitchy movements. I feel my own roots stretch deep into the earth and imagine that my chest is a sturdy trunk, my arms are limber branches, and my head is a bushy head of leaves, chirping with birds and heavy with fruit. This moment of reconnecting with a greater presence than my own narrow, anxious frame of mind, is a much needed reprieve, and a transition into a grander conversation between myself and the world.