Nature is not something we are passing through on the way to getting somewhere else; rather, nature is passing through us.
The geese will soon be flying south. How do they find their way to their particular winter home? We can surmise that memory, instinct, and a kind of internal compass all play a role. In fact scientists have determined that some birds have a spot on their beaks that contains magnetite — in other words, a magnet. Birds have an internal compass.
What’s astonishing is that human beings also have magnetite in their bodies — traces of magnetite are found in the brain. Perhaps we too have an inner compass that senses the Earth’s magnetic field. We are literally in touch with the earth.
According to legend, Gotama, the Buddha-to-be, attained enlightenment after sitting on the earth under a Bodhi tree without moving for 47 days. "Even if my flesh and blood were to dry up, leaving only skin and bones, I will not leave this place until I find a way to end all sorrow,” vowed Gotama. The story is that Mara, “the evil one,” tried to scare Gotama into giving up his quest. In psychological terms, Mara can be seen as the deluded self that gets caught in egoic longing and the desire for a safe, solid, manageable existence.
There’s this beautiful image of Mara’s armies shooting arrows that land as flowers at Gotama’s feet. Gotama is unmoved. Finally, Mara throws out his final challenge — self doubt. As Tara Brach describes it, “Mara was targeting the core reactivity that hooks and sustains the sense of small self — the perception of our own unworthiness.” What makes Gotama think he has the right to sit in the seat of compassionate awakening? Who can vouch for him? Who has witnessed his so-called enlightenment? In reply the Buddha gently lowers his right hand and touches the earth. The earth responds with a shattering roar, “I bear you witness!” sending the defeated Mara scurrying sway.
“In that instant of acknowledging his belonging to the earth, Gotama became the Buddha — the awakened one — and was liberated,” writes Tara Brach. “By claiming this living wholeness, he dissolved the final vestiges of the trance of separation.”
That the Buddha touched the earth suggests that we, too, can turn to our deep connection with the earth when our minds haunt us with fears of what is and what may come. Ungrounded, we become lost, angry, and confused. When we are grounded, connected to nature through our bodies, we are aligned to the sources of life within and around us, and to our deepest wisdom and compassion.
When we lose our connection to the earth we get lost. We get lost in the delusion that we are somehow separate from the earth, that we are disconnected from nature, from our bodies. We can be in the middle of a forest but still feel out of touch if we are doom scrolling on our devices. We can be in the midst of the Rocky Mountains but if we are speeding along in a car in four lanes of heavy traffic on the Trans-Canada Highway, all that majestic scenery will pass us by in a blur.
The experience of being in touch with the earth has the effect of orienting us to our present moment reality. When we go at a slower pace, we sense the wind on our skin, we hear the chirp of birds and the hum of traffic, we smell the sweet scent of fallen leaves, we see the person sleeping rough on the park bench.
Nature is no longer something we are passing through on the way to getting somewhere else; rather, nature is passing through us.
What does it mean to know that nature is moving through us?
It isn’t only about appreciating birds, and flowers, and rain, and sunlight. Nature is also moving through us when we are driving our cars, working on our computers, pressing weights at the gym, or sleeping in our beds. No matter how artificial our environment may appear to be, our bodies are living, breathing, organisms of the natural world, dependent on and composed of the elements. Nature is us. We are not separate from it.
We don’t own our bodies. We borrow them from nature. It’s a life lease. At end of life, these bodies of ours dissolve and return to the elements. Our energetic essence, our spirit, our karmic body may well carry on in a new form but these physical bodies we inhabit and are so attached to are destined to turn to dust.
When we realize our bodies are not us, that they belong to nature, a burden falls away. We are no longer so attached to our bodies. And not being attached allows us — paradoxically — to be deeply engaged, deeply connected, appreciative, and to live out of a sense of truly belonging in this world. It allows us to be fearless.
We happen to be living in a time of great planetary unrest. Lucky us. People nowadays use the word “apocalyptic” a lot. Apocalypse is a Greek word meaning “revelation.” It has the meaning of something being shaken up or destroyed in order to uncover what was hidden. Something dramatic happens and suddenly what needs to be known is revealed and what needs to be done becomes absolutely clear.
The 83-year-old founder and CEO of Patagonia announced recently he was giving away his three-billion-dollar company. It’s being turned over to a trust and a non-profit devoted to addressing climate change and environmental breakdown. In a letter he posted to the Patagonia website, Yvon Chouinard said: “Earth is now our only shareholder.”
We live in a time of great upheaval. And we don’t know, we can’t know, where it’s all going, how it’s all going to turn out. But we can align ourselves with our internal compass — our connection with the earth. Call it Buddha Nature, True Self, Divine Order, Emptiness, Presence or some other concept that has meaning for you, if you wish. Following our internal compass is like following the North Star. We are pulled in the direction of awakening, of awareness, love, and liberation. Once we get some momentum going we’ll find that we can ride the winds and tides of Dharma with little effort on our part.
Uvavnuk was an Inuk woman from Nunavut who became a great shaman in the19th century. She started out as an ordinary woman with no interest in spirituality. It’s said that one night she was struck by a ball of fire — perhaps a meteor — and went into a trance. While in that trance she sang a song. Here is part of that song. It’s called “The Great Sea.”
The Great Sea has set me in motion
Set me adrift
Moving me like a weed in a river.
The sky and the strong wind
Have moved the spirit inside of me
Till I am carried away
Trembling with joy.
—Nelle Oosterom