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April: On Nature
April 20
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from a book near and dear to me because . . . it was written by me: Lux: From the Kingdom of Darkness.
At this time of year, the Viola Sororia, also known as the common blue violet, stand humbly in the shade of the trees on either edge of the creek. They sit quietly on the side of the house and shed displaying their blue-purple flowers and green heart-shaped leaves for any who wander into the shadow seeking mystery or reprieve from the sun and heat.
They’re small flowers, but beautiful and strong, and no matter the heat of the summer or cold of winter, they’ll find a way back—every year, never looking to steal the show in spring against the daffodils, irises, and tulips, and never looking to out compete the zinnias and cosmos and dahlias and sunflowers of summer. They are cheerful and fulfilled it would seem, satisfied with their lot in life, their place in the world. They do not ask to be moved into the sun or to be watered on the 90 degree days. They take the wind and the rain and the sun as it comes, and they are happy.
When they first come up in the spring, I stop, crouch down, and take a moment to look at them. And then I thank them for teaching me so much.
April: On Nature
April 19
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from another Yogi teabag.
Despite the damage to humans and everything we’ve built, hurricanes stir and thrash the ocean waters, mixing and redistributing nutrients like a blender, further supporting life that may not have had access to them before. They balance the planet’s temperatures by moving excess heat from the equator, bringing it to the atmosphere where it is cooled.
And when disaster strikes unexpectedly in your life, when there is violence and war and sickness and political upheaval, know that it is a storm, stirring the stillness, but from it, life and ideas and love will spread to places they once did not reach.
The storms and rain are chaos, yes, but they are born of nature from Earth, and never forget that from their brutality, comes beauty and life.
April: On Nature
April 18
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Richard Fortey's book The Earth: An Intimate History.
Our lives are less than the blink of an eye—cosmically speaking. Humanity, too. Here one day, gone the next.
So, what do we do with that? We remind ourselves that everything happening around us—the things in our control and the things we have no agency over—is temporary. We’re lucky to be here while the Earth allows it. Don’t forget it—each and every day we get is a gift. And it is also a cosmic anomaly.
We are alive. We are living creatures in the vastness and emptiness of space. Think about that as often as you can. Try not to gorge yourself on resources. Try instead to embrace and nourish nature. Love others and love yourself before it all changes and disappears, and we become less than a memory.
April: On Nature
April 17
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from the song "Where Do the Children Play?" by Yusef / Cat Stevens.
While there’s something so innately human about a child's ability to play anywhere, they shouldn’t have to play just anywhere.
Even the playgrounds, and while I am grateful that designated areas for children exist, are often lacking imagination, lacking nature, and they’re brutally hot in the warmer months without the shade and protection of trees.
Children should have the opportunity to play on the sandy shores of the ocean, in a pristine mountain lake, or deep in the forest—in whatever bit of nature that might be available to them before it’s torn down and bulldozed over—where the wind sings and the animals speak. It is in these magical places that they learn and grow and connect with where they came from—nature, Earth—but to echo yesterday’s reflection, it is up to us to make sure that these places still exist for them.
So again, do what you can. If you have children, or even if you don’t, go ahead, don’t be afraid to look crazy playing in the woods, in the grass, or in the dirt. It will do you good.
We all have to do our part to make sure there are still places left for the children to play.
April: On Nature
April 16
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from N. Scott Momaday's book Earth Keeper: Reflections on the American Land.
As bleak as the outlook may be when you look around at the damage we've done to the planet, and at times when despair settles in as you watch the local woodlands get cut down and bulldozed in just a few weeks time, destroying or displacing the life that once called it home, just remember that nature is a resilient thing and despite the chainsaws and chemicals and smog, a little bit of green will always find a way.
And consider the future generations who will either be left with a mess of mammoth proportions to clean up—a mess we made that they simply inherited, how kind of us—or a world of lush green life, fresh air, and clean water with which to play in, grow food in, and simply exist as a human in—the way nature intended when she created us.
It’s possible. Don’t give up. Strive with all your strength to give them, those who come after, that gift of wonder.
It starts with you.
April: On Nature
April 15
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem "Kéramos."
Is it any surprise some of the greatest paintings and works of art are interpretations of nature?
We see beauty in the natural world and are compelled by something mysterious within ourselves to replicate it.
We hear the sound of water by a creek or the sea and create music to bring us to tears or stir us into action in the same way. The wind moves through the trees, speaking to us like ghosts and all we can do in a vain attempt to translate its ancient language is write poetry in answer.
The beauty of true art is that it comes from humans, and the beauty of humans is that we come from nature. Find art in nature, and then make some for yourself.
April: On Nature
April 14
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Rachel Carson's The Sense of Wonder.
As the work day continues on and the tasks pile up and the personal to-do list gets pushed back, a sort of pressure builds like a tea kettle coming to boil.
The screens have taken enough from you for the time being and it's time for you to step away and find your medicine in nature.
Take a walk, watch the sky, look at the leaves of the trees blowing in the wind, breathe the fresh air and look at all that your eyes were meant to behold in the natural world.
All it takes is 10-15 minutes in nature to wash the dirt from your mind and replace it with soil on your fingertips. This is where you are meant to be. Not boxed in by walls and surrounded by screens.
Feel the rejuvenating and healing spirit of nature.
April: On Nature
April 13
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Wallace Stegner's The Sound of Mountain Water.
We are trading in the mystery and beauty of the natural world for trinkets and devices that spike our dopamine for a few moments to days and then are quickly discarded or forgotten about.
We live greater than the kings of old, having virtually any type of food on the planet prepared and then delivered right to our door. Need a new hose for the garden? Get it delivered the same day you order it. Need a replica claymore steel sword from that movie you loved as a kid? Get it delivered tomorrow.
And we are masters of the climate within our own homes, making it hot in the winter and cold in the summer. We even heat and cool our pools, depending on where you live. We live as though we have shackled and beaten nature into submission, forcing it to exist solely for our pleasure. But it doesn’t exist for us. We exist together. As one. But sometimes, oftentimes, we forget it. It’s easy to, unfortunately. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the day-to-day. To want the next shiny thing that comes out, dangled in front of our eyes.
It happens to all of us. But we must actively remember where we came from, and we must always fight for it and fight to preserve it.
We are not single and separate from nature, we are part of the trees, rocks, and soil—brothers and sisters to the animals. We must cherish and preserve the remaining wilderness at all costs, or we risk losing part of what makes us human.
April: On Nature
April 12
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet.
When lost in life, we often look for road signs, beacons atop a lighthouse, or the North Star to show us the way and guide us home. And the truth is, we just don’t look for these things, we expect them to be posted before our very eyes, to rise out of the ground and blink their characteristic, or to flare up into existence out of the abyss of nothing.
We seek these things out, expecting they will guide us to the answers of our questions of life, death, love, meaning, and everything in-between—but they cannot answer us because they are not there.
I encourage you instead to look to nature, to the drops of rain on the petals of a tulip, the soft bits of moss on a stone in the shade of a trail, the bees working through the day toward a communal goal, and then look to the small moments with those you love—holding your partner’s hand, making your child laugh, sitting by the warmth of a fire in the winter with friends. You may not see it, but over time, and with love and care, as with the redwood, these moments will stack one upon the other and one day, live right into the answer you seek.
April: On Nature
April 11
Today's reflection was inspired by a quote from Rooted by Lyanda Lynn Haupt.
When the sun retreats, it is then that the house and the world go quiet, it is then that the chaos subsides and the silence enters your mind, then that you can hear the voice of your spirit, your own heartbeat, the blood in your veins.
When the sun retreats, the mind can roam with the ghosts and the fairies, the mysterious and the last bits of the unknown left in this world.
When the sun retreats and you wake in the middle of the night, stumbling to the bathroom or kitchen or nursery caught in between the worlds of sleep and waking, it is the closest you’ll ever be to wandering another planet or realm.
The deep darkness is silence and silence is beauty. Embrace the darkness.
From the publisher's feed
Welcome to the Everyday Human podcast.
My name is Eastin DeVerna. Each day, I'll share a reflection written by me and inspired by literature, poetry, music, movies, video…
Together, we'll explore what it means to be human. Every month we'll walk a new path, taking a look at life, death, the universe, and everything in between.
Thanks for coming along.
For more, visit eastindeverna.com or join me on Instagram @the_everydayhuman.