Wonder. More, please.

I had forgotten. How vast this universe is. How full of wonder.

I'd been feeling this lack of shimmeriness ... that radiating feeling of being in tune with the crickets at dusk and the calls of the loons. I blame a myriad of things from flat out busyness to emotional overwhelm from so many life changes. But alas, that's the thing about being a fully-alive being in this world: you can't go for long without dipping back into the magic of sharing your breath with every other thing.

🌓 ✨ Moon, stars, water & trees.

I happily detached every bit of technology I'd plugged into my body and spirit to camp out in the Vermont wilderness for days on end. IT WAS PROFOUND. My animal instincts began to hone in to every little sound around me. I could smell the Earth below my feet. I woke to dew on my lips and the mysterious loon-song in my ears.

But the best part was the wonder.

There was nothing else to do but stare deeply into the night sky. Stare. Wonder. And feel my soul.

Grout Pond, VT at dusk.

This ancient part of me reinhabited my body and then soared back out into the stars as my feet dug deep into the pebbles.

Nature—the web of universal energy—is always there to remind us of our own sanctity. Of our sovereignty.

What an honor to soak in all the teeming vitality of this verdant Earth while looking up to the vastness of space. It's both humbling and all-out enthralling.

🔥 Ceremony.

And behind me crackled another reminder of wonder: fire.

I brought to it my sadness. Anger. And all the other nameless woes. With each log, let them burn. I called it a ceremony and watched the emotions rise back to the stars as sparks in the night.

Sometimes we need no words. The body knows and speaks with nature on it's own.

We're wired to commune with nature. When we put our bodies in a place to let the rhythm of the universe converse with our own internal rhythym, we co-regulate with ... well, the universe. If that's not wonder, I don't know what is.