 By Brooke Maffia Wang
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. --John Muir My shoulders drop, the corners of my mouth rise, and I exhale deeply in an enfolding sense of welcome just as I am. Awe is healing. My body felt a resounding yes when I read this in a research study. And, again, this past week when my now 10 year old daughter and I made a 5.5 mile trek through the damp familiar redwoods. The redwood forests in Henry Cowell State Park have played a part in raising me. They are as much my home as any house I’ve lived in. Creek walks, bike rides, runs, picnics on the riverbed, ducking and crowding into the Fremont Tree, walking the tracks to the Garden of Eden, gathering in the “family circle," riding the steam engine to Bear Mountain, viewing the stars and the ocean from the observation deck after having gone through three ecosystems to get there, prayer in the Cathedral of Redwoods, the horn of the beach train as it rumbles through the forest. Oh, and the intoxicating smell that is like a hug on a hot summer day. Each time I leave a little more grounded, aware of our interconnectedness, and filled with a lighter and bigger perspective. Awe is one reason I continue to find my way home to this sacred awe filled forest. How about you?
As we enter this season of holidays that are beautiful and messy, may you find places to play and pray, moments of awe that sink deeply into your bones as they bring healing and strength as they remind you of the unique gift of you to this world. Comments are closed.
|