On Being Purely Human

“A great silent space holds all of nature in its embrace. It also holds you.” --Eckhart Tolle rnNot one sparrow falls from the sky that our heavenly Father does rnnot know about - so much does he love the creation he made. --Matt 10:29 rnThis may seem an obvious question but have you ever noticed how nature makes you feel rngood? Did you ever ask yourself why? We love to watch billowing clouds slowly rntransform into lions or gnomes or a blustery Uncle Fred. The power of the ocean draws rnus to its shore to watch waves tumbling over each other like playful kittens, only to rnsurrender exhausted at our feet. We feel more complete, somehow more human, when we rnacknowledge nature. How does that work? rnWe humans are self imposed prisoners of concrete and steel, cut off from the vibrancy of rnnature. We compensate by bringing plants and animals into our coffin like quarters, and it rnworks, in part. Through them we are reminded of how we were in childhood when we rnwere most like nature. But, what is it that nature has, or is, that we have lost? rnNature is our partner in evolution. It fluidly expresses, what we strive so hard to attain; rneffortless being. A bird acts without forethought or volition. A sparrow doesn’t say, “O.K., now I’d like to eat those berries but I’ve been gaining a little weight lately, maybe rnI shouldn’t. Besides, the purple ones give me gas and ...” A bird naturally eats or doesn’t rneat according to its nature. An elephant sleeps when it is time, a coyote hunts, a leopard rnleaps and a whale sings in perfect cadence with the singular beating heart of creation. rnNature is a tuning fork. It resonates at the perfect pitch for human harmony. It is always rnresonating, waiting for us, like a loving mother waiting for her children to return. When rnNature does enfold us in her peaceful embrace the human mind gives up its mental toys rnand settles into the bliss of being purely human. rnThen it happens. We prodigal sons and daughters of nature return the favor. We inspire rnnature to become conscious of its own existence; a completing of the Self-awareness rncircuit as it were, a reunion of Self with Self. rnSeveral days ago I was leaving home for a meeting. I heard a rustle high in the tree rnoverhead. My eye was drawn to a pair of blue jays flitting along the top branches. The rnmale led the way to the next tree but the female hesitated as she looked at me, looking at rnher. She was ever watchful for predators, twisting her neck this way then that, in jerky rnmotions as birds in the wild must. She cocked her head to one side for a long second and rnour eyes met again. This was no accident. She dropped down a few branches and began rnwatching me more closely. I felt a strange sense of familiarity in her, an ancient rncamaraderie. I stood, neck bent, looking up into the branches. As she descended limb by rnlimb, a sense of peace settled over me. She was less wary now, checking for threats only rnoccasionally, content to calmly connect with me. By contrast her mate nervously scanned rnsky and earth while pacing between branches, giving little peeps and hurried chortles. But rnshe remained steady on a branch now just above my upturned face. As I stood looking up, rnslightly swaying, she pulled one leg up under her and fluffed out her feathers looking like rna blue-white snowman with one twig leg and two fathomless dark eyes. rnI don’t know how long we bathed in that communal silence, ten or fifteen minutes I rnsuppose. I was the one to break it off. My neck was getting stiff and besides, I was now rnten or fifteen minutes late for my appointment. I bade a silent goodbye to the jay, but rnwhat we shared could not be left behind. Our forms could separate and resume life in our rnalternate and alienated worlds. But we could not leave the silence behind; or the Knowing rnthat had fathered it. rnWalking away I turned to see if my friend was leaving too. She was, easily working her rnway back through the branches to console her harried mate. He met her among the leaves rnof the highest tree, scolded her lightly, looked both ways as if crossing a street, and flew rnbeyond the roof of the building next door. Before following, she hesitated briefly and rnlooked back over her shoulder. Our eyes met for the last time and stirred the still lively rnsilence between us. Then she dropped into space, unfolded her wings and left our world rnbehind.