Lessons From Nature

 I live on the top floor of a house in an east-end neighbourhood of Toronto.  My neighbourhood has existed for several decades now and is home to many majestic species of trees.  One such tree lives on my next-door neighbour's front lawn, her branches spreading tall and wide across our properties.  In the coming months, her branches will begin to sprout green buds that will signal the arrival of spring.  These buds will erupt into lush, rustling green leaves providing much-needed shade on scorching summer days.  In the fall her canopy will turn into a patchwork quilt of firey yellows, oranges, and reds providing stunning beauty that will eventually be shed as cooler temperatures arrive.  Her bare branches will cradle snowfall through the winter months, a beautiful seasonal display best enjoyed while snuggled indoors with a hot drink in hand.  

I coexist with our neighbour's tree, without giving it much thought.  I see its reaching branches through my living room and bedroom windows and enjoy watching nature nestled in its leaves from time to time.  It is only when we are faced with powerful windstorms that I become very aware of its presence.  This past weekend's storms provided a few moments of pause while I watched in awe as this big old tree danced and played in the wicked winds that blew.  While I am unsure of this tree's age, to have become as large as it has tells me that it is decades old.  Its branches look wisened and gnarled - ready to snap and break off at the mere hint of a wind gust.  And yet, it persists.  Simply moving with the wind and only dropping a few peripheral twigs here and there.  

This made me start to wonder about the ability to be both strong and supple, to be able to invite in that quality of bending without breaking despite what we are faced with.  I wondered if I could find it within myself to do the same as this tree, and learn to better navigate the inevitable and unrelenting change that our lives are defined by.  

I love the word supple - how it feels in my mouth and the image that comes to mind when I think of it.  While it is easy to think of being supple physically, I also started to think about ways that I could incorporate this same principle into my emotional and spiritual lives as well.  Physically, being supple is a work in progress for me.  I am grateful to yoga for setting me on this path and without that daily movement practice, I feel my body losing some of its ability to move with grace and fluidity.  Even as I run, I find that reminding myself to remain supple helps me allow my stride to flow instead of being forced and uncomfortable.  I know from experience what happens when I stop including mobility work in my days and the disappointment that comes from the injuries I have suffered as a result.  I also like the way my body feels when I am more mindful of being supple.  I feel like I move with grace and ease, even during the most mundane of tasks like walking to the corner store or around my apartment. 

I wondered about being emotionally supple, and what that might look like.  I am not looking for a way to skirt emotional connection or commitment by calling myself "emotionally supple".  What I am thinking is that there needs to be a way to be both connected and autonomous at the same time.  My past relationship experiences have often led to enmeshment or codependence, both of which have had unhealthy outcomes.  Where I find myself these days is working towards the ability to ebb and flow with the ups and downs of a relationship, without feeling like my self-worth is tied to these movements.  Not judging myself for the cycles that a healthy relationship will flow through is what being emotionally supple feels like to me. 

The last on my list was being spiritually supple.  I have only recently begun to describe myself as being spiritual and having a spiritual practice.  In my younger years, the idea of spirituality always brought to my mind traditional religious beliefs, none of which resonated with me.  It was only in recent years, through my yoga practice that I have embraced the spirituality that comes with believing in a greater power that is helping to guide us through our days, should we choose to listen and believe.  This idea is already quite woo-woo and fluid, so how could I possibly add a layer of suppleness to it?  For me, the work is in continuing to allow things to flow, and to allow myself to be open to the flow that is taking place all around me.  I like certainty and love to lock onto what feels like a predictable outcome or path ahead.  I love checklists and plans and the thought that I have knowledge of where my life is headed.  *shakes head and smiles*  Deep down, I know that none of this is true, ever.  Even on a day when I feel fairly certain about what will take place, there is no certainty, and this is both beautiful and unnerving.  This is also where learning to bend will help me to not break when faced with obstacles I was not expecting or am not feeling prepared to face.  Thinking back to my neighbour's tree and her branches dancing in the wind, I know that I will have found my own suppleness when I can move with the same grace in the face of headwinds that seem to come out of nowhere and last an eternity.