crunchy earth and celestial grace
Embracing the Infinite
Jules Robinson works in creative communications and project management for conservation and wildlife charities and initiatives linking and promoting spiritual and ecological outreach. She is a writer, nature lover, sheep whisperer and has a passion for all things wild and inspired!
Find out more: http://www.thenaturebible.org.uk/
It’s enough to wash myself in the sound of fresh, rushing, bubbling brook, that roots me, motionless to the crunchy earth of the forest floor, cleansing, lightly delighting, as if lifting shadows, like dark pools beneath umbrageous bows, pouring in glory streams of sunlight in shades of emerald and gold. Complete physical bodily immersion is an entirely different union, warm skin on cool water skim, sinking through the surface of celestial grace into another realm, yet more alive and awake and re-connected to what I know and love.
Both invoke tender pondering, mind wandering, thoughts initially flitting like butterflies before settling in an eternal harmony and warm love-longing. I breathe in the deep, wide breath of nature and the delicious wild honeysuckle scents of early summer as the breeze stills into a perfect calm, full of hope, expectation and every joy. An insect buzz near my ear, sweet birdsong from the trees, and the bleat of a lamb on the far-off hills are caught and lifted on the echoing air, like prayers drifting on unseen curls of incense.
This IS a spiritual union. Always. Whatever the minute, hour, day or the season. Wherever I am, whatever stirs in the heart of nature, stirs in me. I’m merged into this boundless, limitless, oneness, yet at the same time full of knowing reverence and wonder and awe. Awe for each and every created thing, that IS now and for what it will become, a marvel of intricacies, a variety of essence, gently kissed by the elements with which it combines, interchangeable, ever changeable, infinity’s only constant.
I don’t have to be amongst trees in cathedrals of woods or feather-topped grasses in somnolent meadows to be intrigued by the wanderings of the tiniest beetles or the delicate, fragile intricacy in the pattern of a lacewing - both can be found in my own ‘shelter’ with a painted concrete sky. I let the outside in (a hornet over-wintering in the folds of my bedroom curtain, fresh air, sunlight, moonshine, the deep aroma of petrichor after it rains), and let the inside out (bees, grasshoppers, butterflies, centipedes, winter woodsmoke) and let those living ‘in between’, come and go as they please, like the shrews which run in and out under the doors and over the sills.
There is a deep purity in all creatures, an absolute trust in the divineness of nature as a loving presence that provides. The Father of Mother Earth is continually creating new life and pouring nature’s bounty into every lap. I celebrate this boundless, limitless, horizon that refreshes and restores by looking more closely and loving more deeply.
Creation trusts in the delights of the process of life. It trusts in life itself. I long to do the same - to spring again from the depths of the earth to be as vulnerable and innocent as a lamb, whilst devoting my being to stemming humanity’s abuse of this trust. I’m living in the prayerful hope that all may be reconciled and re-awakened; that together we may heal and tend to creation and that each and every one may see the earth as I do and celebrate this pulsating heart-beat, which radiates and testifies the presence of the infinite, the glory of God.
Thanks and credits
Thanks to Jules for her inspiring writing
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