The Landscapes of Our Lives

I have written in these pages before about how the landscape that surrounds us holds us, or not, and mirrors our minds and our hearts.  There is a very deep way in which the physical landscape wriggles its way into the landscape of our soul and opens some doors while it shuts others.  Such is the experience I had over the past short time…..

I’ve been traveling to places I hadn’t imagined going, Vancouver Island and its neighbours.  What a joy to be in a new place for the first time in so many years, and a place that was as utterly foreign as it now feels familiar.  Towering snow-covered mountains and crashing seas under uncharacteristically (I am told) clear blue skies greeted us when we had prepared for raging storms the majesty of which was not to be missed. 

What has made it feel so like a cloak that was easily donned?  I think it has been the diversity of the landscape.  The outer landscape, that is.  Not just the physical landscape, but also the ways it keeps changing.  And even more, the ways that it reflects my internal landscape.

We arrived to changing skies.  Moving between patches of blue-ish to clouding over.  Then patches of blue re-appeared.  It threatened rain that never arrived.  And so it stayed for several days in several places. 

But in fact it may have been more of a returning. This very new place in which I found myself was populated with the craggy mountains, mossy boulders, trees and shrubs of my former home.  Acid-loving oaks, pines and firs, rhododendrons and azaleas that welcomed me like a long lost traveler into a landscape both totally foreign and as comfortable as a pair of old flannel pajamas. 

Ferrying out to a channel island we were amazed to be greeted by mountains wreathed in mists, hiding and revealing their secrets like so many small children.  Much like my moods that ranged from the total joy of being in this wonderful place but tempered by a bit of caution meeting strangers who were not yet friends.  My own excitement at the newness became a cloak to hold me.  I became the fog, rolling in and out across and past the landscape.  Revealing moments of sunshine as strangers became new friends.

This is pretty familiar.  Like many of us, I am easy and outgoing when I have a role, but shy and observing without one.  And so it felt as I slowly became familiar with the twists and turns of country roads; with the route towards the town; with stumbling into and out of roadside attractions; with walking among ancient firs; with the dash down rugged mountain switchbacks in hope of catching the glorious the Pacific sunset; with the quiet sun rise over a golden cove.  Each piece of this wondrous week held a magic that was reflected by its landscape.  And that outer landscape in turn reflects my own.

How can we honor that reflection of our surroundings?  How does our physical landscape become the mirror of our inner world?  How does our inner world mirror what we see around us?

How frequently we move through our lives forgetting to look up wards, gaze outwards.  What helps us remember that we can turn to the natural world, even if it is squished into the cracks of pavement, pushing up through parking lots to reveal itself as the power of Life Force pushing its way into our humanity?

We are connected to landscape that surrounds us.  Those magical moments when we get away from our daily lives can be a touchstone.  But the magic of our landscape is ever-present for us to draw upon in any moment.

Take a good look around you today as you bustle through your chores.  Take a deep breath of the softening air.  Notice the melting snow.  Listen to the birds calling out to each other, “change is here!  Spring comes!”