Walking in the woods this morning on my magical mysterious communion with nature I startled myself back into awakeness with the realization that I wasn’t present at all. I was deciding what bushes to prune later in the day. It was intense — that not being present. I was a bit dumbfounded and absolutely curious.
It wasn’t the story in my head that jumped out and bit me. That wasn’t even slightly tantalizing. It was the energy of disconnect, the downward spiral of self-made, self-contained storyland.

The energy was almost sticky, sickly sweet. When we are caught in the spider web of not-now, of not-here we often don’t notice the energy. We take it for real and don’t stop to question that something feels off.

I am blessed to be able to feel my experience — no, I didn’t always see that as a blessings — but, because I do when my normal expansiveness feels constricted it jolts me awake.

Expansiveness is present in the flow of this moment. This morning that would have meant intimacy, a love-making with the winding trails, the wind as it blew raindrops from the leaves plumped by the night’s wetness, the new green sprouts peaking out of the dirt, raspberry flowers transforming with the promise of fruit – so many little green clusters not yet dripping with red, the trill of the songbirds, the swish of the owl’s wings — so many reasons to remain present.
The wonders of nature I was missing didn’t alert me to my fall from grace, nor did the errant path I was pursuing. Many miss all of life’s juicy blessings, totally unaware of a world pregnant with possibility … and distractions aren’t tattletales, at least not on themselves. How I felt told me all that I needed to know.

When I am present there is no me, no forest, there is simply sacred presencing. When I am absent — perhaps the true meaning of absent-minded — it feels like all the love has gone out of the world and only a puny, suffocating, yet oft meandering, exteriority remains — not real at all.

It’s not a sin to fall from grace. It is only one to consciously remain there. Moments like this morning are precious way-showers, gentle reminders of truth, of humanity’s true nature. The forest patiently awaits my laughter, the moment conscious awareness returns. Love, this present moment, the here-now — the true Garden of Eden — patiently awaits us all.

“A consciously aware being is a spectacular rarity. Most people are technically alive, hearts beating, lungs breathing. Alive but not aware, they are moved through the motions by their programming. When you know, you stem the flow. You cannot see the unknown whilst your eyes are fixed in the known, and even though you may be terrified of it, you want the unknown.” Card #18, Consciously Aware — The Wild Child