Rediscovering the Language of Nature

As I was meditating this morning, I was listening alternately to the sound of the cicadas’ insistent and persistent chirping and then to the strong winds that are whipping up and wrapping themselves all about the house in a way that drowns out every other kind of noise.

It had been my intention to meditate and then write a piece about inspiring others, after catching up with a wonderfully enigmatic lady at a 70th birthday party at the weekend, known lovingly to her readers as backpacking granny.

We had been talking about raising children and she was feeling very blessed that her (now grown) kids had all recently told her how supported they had felt by her as they were growing up. Her view was that the only thing she did was “blow sunshine up their arse”, a turn of phrase that both tickled and resonated with me.

Perhaps another time I can espouse on the virtues of this. Instead though, as I was meditating, I suddenly thought about a story I had been reading to my children. A fairy had given the main characters – two girls called Kirsty and Rachel - the ability to communicate with animals.

We are not talking about a very sophisticated storyline, my children are only 6 and 4 after all, but there was a sadness that struck me as I read about a mummy panda who had lost her cub and was very surprised to have these young girls understand her and talk to her.

At that moment I wondered at the many times in each day we must miss nature’s constant communication. Since I began doing regular meditation (only 15 minutes each day), I have started to drink in much more of what surrounds me more often. My imagination sparked as I started to wonder at the way other animals must experience humans.

At first I had a vivid picture in my mind of taking the subway when I worked in London, with parties of foreigners travelling together immersed in their own language, coexisting but not communicating directly with others around. Yet the connection is still there, if anything we are more forced to notice a broader picture of communication.

That led to a thought about how limiting our language is. While I love the deliciousness of finding just the right words to describe something, I am also aware that there is so much more beyond the words we have. Then I drifted back to the cicadas and the wind.

I have leaned to just run with these ideas that just pop into my head, seemingly out of nowhere, they come with a little tingle as I start to explore them.

From the hubbub of a hectic weekend filled with lots of socializing, I was thoroughly appreciating the sound of the wind hugging around the house and temporarily drowning out the cicadas’ relentless chirps, denoting our summer season.

Then my mind took a tangent, though still related. I had the good fortune to meet another incredibly fascinating woman a while back who gave me an insight into art history. She showed me a picture painted by Raphael many centuries ago and talked me through the symbolism she saw, such as a downward pointing sword alluding to the conquering of lower forces (such as jealousy).

There is something in us that sings when we hear truth, and I had never regarded painting as a form of communication for that inner knowing before. Yet it is an avenue of creative expression, which emanates from an inner space, so it makes sense to me that what is being expressed is that individual’s very understanding of life itself.

As a human race we have been gifted with many forms of creative expression, and yet we often fail to ponder upon what those ‘man made’ expressions are telling us, far less all the sign posts from the magnificent world around us.

Spending time on the beach is – as many of you know – a favoured occupation of mine. One of the things I love about it, is the time to just sit and watch the dogs that have come there for a walk, or the flocks of birds that call the coastline their home. Sometimes I just like to look at the islands in the distance, or the clouds in the sky, at other times I like to walk along the shore and see what wondrous delights the sea has shared upon its shore.

In those moments of awareness of the world beyond our default subconscious thinking, which seems as persistent as the cicadas chirps, I wonder what is being communicated to me. Sometimes an answer will just pop into my head, and it just feels right.

Like right now as I tap away, the wind continuing to whip around my deck area outside the window, the thought occurs, it’s the winds of change – they are sweeping the decks, making way for the new. That makes me chuckle as it’s both figurative and literal since we are in the midst of having our deck stained.

Much in my life is changing right now, I can feel it rather than see it. I am aware of the conversations I am drawn to, and the things that are showing up in my life, they are all following a theme at the moment that surrounds my children and education. Whatever change is afoot will reveal itself in time.

I used to often feel frustrated at the pace of change, yet I have come to know that everything has its own right time. In this universe where everything is interconnected, there are huge shifts that occur to just make – what seems – the tiniest difference in our lives.

There was a young girl who contacted me a while back and, as we pondered a deeper meaning of life, she mused at how she’d been drawn to mathematics, despite her first love of music. She knew exactly why, for its patterns. And as she talked about it, there was a picture in my head of binary code running through the ether, and I marveled at the precision of all that shows up in life to bend to our every desire.

There are many people that can teach you nature’s symbols, especially among those with a heritage that honor native traditions, but ultimately it comes down to whatever resonates for you. Really if you just take the time to observe and wonder, your own answer will come.

Regardless of the messages, taking the time to just sit and observe, to connect and wonder at the world around you will help you to simply breathe at a more relaxed pace again. To feel like there is a space that has opened up within you, which will no doubt lead to some insights about your best life, is really one of the best things nature has to offer.
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Knowing I’ve helped in some way through my writing means a lot - I’d love for you to like, comment on, or  share these thoughts with others, or contact me directly at shona@shonakeachie.com, I’m always happy to help if I can. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also subscribe to my newsletter and, as a special thank you, you will receive the link to my video 3 Steps to Becoming You.