I had just six hours left in Diu before I left for Udaipur.
I ended up at the beach (again) to take one last dip in the water and say my goodbyes to the ocean. I admired the sparkly water that shone like crystals, mirroring the orangish tinge of the sun on its surface. All the while, the waves crashed against my side, sometimes knocking my knees down, making me swallow a mouthful of salt water.
The sea showed off its strength and might with the roaring magnitude of tides, its immortality as it stretched beyond infinity. It made me surrender to nature, letting my ego float away with the white foam. The soft ripples that issued after every blow seemed to be mocking, a tremendous force one moment, sheet of tranquillity the next.
It has fascinated me to watch my mother follow spiritual practices and listen to great people speak. When I told her I too want a “superior power” to submit myself too, she asked me who I believed in. I shrugged. I didn’t really know that. “Well, there is always Nature,” she said.
All the complexities in life have been woven by our actions and decisions, while Nature stays crisp and clear, destroying obstacles and making way for new life all the same. Every course of our lives is governed by Nature. It plays its part, regardless of our acknowledgement of its influence in our lives. It is a force that nobody questions and why would they, when one can see new life erupt out of the cracked earth and air change into water right before them.
If we don’t know what path to tread on, there is indeed always Nature.
I attended a small meditation workshop last month expecting a quiet session of controlled thoughts or recitation of mantras in a lambent hall. So it surprised me when the lady in vibrant clothes conducting the workshop asked us to shut our eyes and imagine ourselves at the most “perfect place.” I managed to take a fleeting look at my companions who were probably already halfway to their perfect locations. Here I was, still in the room full of people.
I closed my eyes, desperately telling my mind to reach out for places which had the potential of being categorized as perfect. This is when Nature came to my rescue. Again, I was sitting on a piece of rock covered in a velvet sheet of moss with my bare feet dipped in a shallow stream of crystal clear water. I glanced up to watch the sun getting filtered through the leaves of mighty trees and light up the whole scene with green light.
The sky was visible through the little gaps in the canopy of intervening branches. I suddenly had the feeling of being under a huge umbrella. It did not feel like a confinement though, that would have made me panic; merely a cover that enveloped me in its secure arms. I felt at home, more than I have felt in all these years. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves and the soft, almost seductive, rippling of water created a magnificent ostinato in the background. With every faint blow came a whiff of sweet scents of flowers peeping out of the thicket of green.
It was beautiful and perfect.
I was alone, quite alone, and I was glad to have this magical place to myself. I was undisturbed, floating in the serene surroundings. When we were asked to snap out of our reverie and step into the real world, everybody’s expressions was as dazed as mine. I sighed aloud in amazement of having conjured up such a place in the mind and retaining the calmness in reality.
This is now one of my favorite meditation techniques for the simple reason that I don’t have a hard time keeping my thoughts under control, trying to achieve “nothingness.” I set my creativity loose to wander and explore places that happen to orient around Nature.
The beautiful shades of orange, red, blue and white in the sky, the breathtaking scent of flowers, wet mud and the morning dew clinging on the fresh leaves, the cry of crows, all of it is a constant reminder to me that there is a powerful force that created it all. It is impossible not to be awed by His creativity. I feel His presence everywhere, subtle but sure.
Nature is my God.
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Apprentice Editor: Sarah Qureshi/ Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo Credit: Randen Pederson via Flickr