Ecotherapy

We live in a land where doing is our religion. 

We show up at the altar of progressing, achieving, moving forward towards hopeful futures. We have prophetic visions for ourselves and work towards making them our realities. 

We pray the three sets of five at the gym, the nine to five downtown, and the 2.5 and a white picket fence at home. 

We are disciples of advancement, and this discipline takes tenacity, courage, and heart. 

AND, it requires sacrifice.  

The present. 

We’re promised a heaven in the future. Told to have faith, and maintain hope. So we build towards salvation at the expense of the church of Now. All this futurism has us dissociated. numbed out. Tired. Something feels lost, stuck, ironically unable to move. We’re in Limbo.

AND then there are trees.

 
Have you ever asked a tree its agenda for you? 

What about the pile of crunched up fallen leaves? 

Or how about the ravens and crows on Twin Peaks? 

What’s their optimization strategy? 

What are their plans for the future? 

Do you think they think their caws sound cliche or overdone? 

A laugh pops in. 

Nature has a way of bringing us back to our Natures – curious, laughing, alive to the beings in front of us. Judgements, plans, shoulds, and shame float above the canopy. This openness to the unknown is love. 

AND there’s the skyline again. 

The adventure into the woods is over. 

There is a material world to contend with. The stakes of survival are real. 

AND can we keep that openness in the middle of it all?  

Not the sedative of hope, 

Not the promise of heaven, 

but the aliveness of curiosity, 

The enlightenment of laughter,  

The wonder of love. 

Can we stay in love with Nature? Can we be in love with our Natures?