Skip to main content

Lessons from Nature



The lessons that mother nature tells us are boundless. Endless.
In the most simple ways, she gives us clues to living.

In a storm, you don't have to worry about trees that move with the wind like the pine, it's the ones that are completely solid that could fall.

Moving with the wind verses being stiff:
Adapting, going with, accepting, letting go, empathising, accommodating, flexible. These trees stay rooted.

You know the feeling - of trying to stay standing against all odds until you fall on your face.
Literally in my case:
When I was a little girl, I had the habit of falling unconscious. When I went with it, my body would collapse gently onto the floor. When I'd try to resist, I'd fall flat like a board and scar my face.
The fainting was sometimes caused by sunstroke, or the burning lights of the TV studio. I do not take well to heat, in spite of my middle eastern blood.
I sometimes brought fainting onto myself - without intent. I was a bit of a shaytaneh as a kid, or something of a monkey, trying to climb the wall, drink water too fast and send it in the wrong tube, fly over a chair and miss and get a clap on my chest and fall... etc.

Since then, I have learnt how not to knock myself out (be safer with risk taking- know my limits; take time drinking water; breath; do things consciously. As for avoiding fainting from external causes like sun or sickness.. I learnt to immediately lay on my back on the ground as soon as I feel it coming on.  Of course, the best thing to do is to avoid having to faint all together. Taking care of the self (eat well, sleep enough, rest, not do crazy things, avoid too much sun... etc.)

It the same with trees - falling could be avoided... or at least delayed.

Stewards of the forest learn to see the dangers before they arrive, pruning the trees that need to be pruned so that they do not fall, or that if they do fall, they won't take down the house with them. Removing the bad trees and planting good ones in their place. Tending the forest. Sometimes trees fall and there's nothing to do about it... but for all the other ones, it's worth the time. It takes a lot of time and work... but if we take care of her, she takes care of us.

Thank you nature.






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fire

The wind doth deceive me and your voice I hear in the tree shrubs Possessed am I with your eyes They pierce my womb and into earth's core I fall to your embrace عشقٌ وجنون Smile to me For you I set my eyes on fire With the lashes of your eyes Hide me in the wallpaper So I can stay near you Unseen

In search for a pseudonym... I stumble upon Wilders' Fitna.

Fitna.  Is an Arabic word that is most commonly translated as ‘strife.’   It could also mean 'enchantment' and even 'sin.'    In its essence, it means: To make something appear differently than its nature.   In the Quran, we are told that Moses ‘fatan’ the ropes and so they appeared as snakes. Wikipedia does a good job at dissecting the word linguistically, so why recreate the wheel.   I would however like to point here to the original meaning of the verb ‘fatana’ and that is: to burn.   Adding to Wiki that it could thus be seen as an alchemical word… the burning of metal to distinguish the gold.   Seeing through falsehood and finding the truth.     Fitna is one of the many words that has been hijacked by the modern language.   If words were to rebel, Fitna would stand in the frontlines. But in spite of the negative association of the word – or perhaps as a result of – Fitna is also a woman’s name (amongst certain groups like the Bedouins.)   In that ins