The Healing Touch of Nature
In the immediate aftermath of the unimaginable loss of my 24-year-old son, Eric, from a car accident, I felt broken and lost. The pain in my chest and stomach were relentless and I had no appetite. My hands shook so much it was hard to write anything that was very legible. I was making my way through each day in a fog.
My soul must have guided my body to keep doing what it does, one breath at a time, one step at a time. Some moments in the day I was stoic, other moments the tumultuous waves of grief took over, eliciting huge wails which I had no control over, nor did I even have the strength to try to contain. Nor did I care. Nothing mattered anymore anyway. There was no need to hide anything or hold anything back. I just existed in the debilitating pain of raw grief.
The Elegant Tree
There is a magnificent pine tree in our front yard. I estimate it to be about 80 feet high and close to 100 years old. She sits elegantly in the middle of the grass, providing a playground for the squirrels and wrens and sparrows that visit throughout the day, as well as shade for me and my family. I often gaze at her through our windows.
One day, just weeks after Eric’s accident, I felt drawn to go out to her and lie underneath her graceful branches. Flat on the grass, I stared up through the lovely woven boughs, soaking in the view of the blue sky and puffy white clouds. It was late May by then and the weather was mild.
The breeze was sweet and gentle. The ground underneath me was secure. I surrendered to all of it. I had no strength to do otherwise.
All was Well
And here I found peace. In this sacred place, I felt loved and held and safe. Time stood still and I was somehow transported to a dimension where all was well. My brain certainly could have argued that all was not well. But in some ineffable way, in this present moment, I felt an utter tranquility I had never felt before. This lovely monument of nature was sending me healing in a way I cannot explain, yet I felt in my bones and in my soul. I didn’t question it. I just accepted it. And in that calmness, I felt Eric’s love.
Most of us have heard of the healing quality of the natural world. This firsthand experienced left me with no doubt that this is true. When we are in nature and we stop to really look at the tree, the flower, the mountain, the ocean, or the clouds, all else is inconsequential. And when we allow ourselves to let go of regrets of the past or worries for the future, we are left with only that which is right here, right now, this beauty that we are in the presence of in this moment.
Nature Heals Us
I continued to go out each day to lie under my elegant pine tree for many more months of Eric’s passing. Eventually, the need to do so lessened as the pain in my chest and stomach subsided and the uncontrollable shaking in my hands ceased. But now, eight years later, I still enjoy spending time out there with her, sometimes lying underneath, sometimes standing in front of her and taking in the awesome intricacies of her wide trunk. I still gaze at her through the windows when I’m inside the house. I feel grateful for her constant love and healing.
As I continue to navigate this grief journey at my own pace, I bask in nature in many other ways. I walk through our local botanical gardens where the sweet scent of eucalyptus is in the air, or occasionally at the ocean where the sand supports me and the gentle breeze caresses me. Wherever any of us may be in our grief, there is a respite where peace can hold us. Mother Earth is generous. Just take a moment to look around, ask, and receive the healing force of nature.
Read more from Dolores on Open to Hope: Setting the Intention to Live Again – Open to Hope
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