Wild spaces.

Wild spaces.

No matter what struggles I might be having I am grateful to live close to wild spaces.  I wish I could capture the feeling I have in my heart when I am in the woods.  I have a – roster shall we say – of locations and I pick and choose depending on how long I have to spend and what mood I might be in.  Am I looking for a specific plant or am I just out to see what I can see? Each of these wild spaces has a different feel, a different energy, a different personality.  Even when many of these spaces are within the same tract of wilderness.

Mystery is hard to capture in words.  I think the poets have come closest but I am no Wendell Berry or Mary Oliver.  For me it is that there is quiet at the heart of the woods; a quiet that in turn quiets my heart.  It soothes my soul and helps me let go of all that is unimportant to the larger questions of our lives.  Time in the wild strengthens my spirit. We have serious problems in our world and I want to be part of solving them.  I want to do it with grace, kindness, and wisdom.  The moments when I brush up against the mystery of wild spaces remind me to be honoured that I am called to this work.  They remind me to be humbled that I am called to this work.  The ancient Gauls had a word – nemeton – that translates as sacred space.  It is this sacredness I want to touch and take back with me whenever I spend time in the wild.

What changes might we make if we saw the world as sacred?

A silver noted photo of forest glade.

Nemeton