Embracing the Wonder of Nature

It is a cold evening, quite cold for early October here in Western Pennsylvania, with the temperature dropping quickly as the sun sets.  I knew that tonight would be the night I might get to see the Aurora Borealis for the first time in my life, and I wanted the best viewing area I could find.  Because our property is mostly wooded with a dense tree line in the north, I thought the best viewing of the night sky would be on the dock of the lake at our local state park, which is only about 5 minutes from our house. We live in the mountains, and with so many forested areas (and also light pollution in our nearby towns and cities), getting out somewhere open, expansive, and dark is the best. When I got to the lake, I was happy to see that maybe 30 others had gathered here as well, whole families and groups of friends. And so we gathered, from far and wide, some people traveling as far as 45 minutes to come to this prime viewing spot of the northern night sky.  For many of us in Western Pennsylvania, this is one of the first chances in our lifetimes to see the Aurora Borealis–it rarely travels this far south.  One older gentleman I talked to told me the last time we had this opportunity like tonight was in the early 1980’s.

It grew colder and colder; as we waited and watched, people laughed, talked to each other, and came together to share about their lives.  And then at about 10:15pm, the show really began. While we had been using cameras, infrared glasses, and phone cameras to see the otherwise invisible Aurora Borealis, suddenly the sky lit up and we could see it with our very eyes–the greens dripping down and transitioning to reds high in the sky–swirls of red above our heads, magnificent colors across the entire horizon.  A collective gasp came from everyone there–and we began cheering, dancing, and simply reveling in the experience of a lifetime. I, along with everyone else, was in absolute awe and wonder.  I was filled with gratitude, hope, and joy at the moment.  All of my worries and cares disappeared–it was just an opportunity to connect with the incredible beauty and majesty of this wonderful universe we live in.  Others there expressed similar sentiments, a few said “I’m so happy to be alive in this moment.”

In fact, this was the second such major celestial phenomenon I had an opportunity to witness this year with others–the first being the “Great American Solar Eclipse” on April 8th.  It was a very similar thing–people gathered from far and wide, some driving days or more to get into the path of totality.  In my case, my family drove about 2 hours north to go to Lake Conneaut near Erie, PA.  We found a spot along a trail in the local park, put down our blankets and chairs, and waited for the eclipse. All around us, people had gathered–on the beach of a local lake, on the lawn of the local breweries and restaurants, along the roads, and in the park where we were. Everyone was talking, sharing, and entirely happy and pleasant. And then it happened.  People cheered, danced, and sang– a monumental collective cheer from everyone there when the moment occurred.  It was an awe-inspiring moment. It was a time of no time.  I played my flute, my mom and dad painted, and my gnomish man just basked in the experience.

My family stayed over at the lake that evening, but due to work obligations and birds needing to be put in at the homestead, I had to drive back.  It took me almost 5 hours to get home, but it was the best traffic experience I have ever had. Despite the slow crawl and bumper-to-bumper traffic (in rural areas that normally have no traffic), everyone was in a good mood.  We were waving at each other and entirely pleasant for being in one of the worst traffic jams of the year.  People were standing on the bridges and waving at us as we crawled back down Interstate 79. There was a joyful, celebratory atmosphere. Nobody cared that the road was packed, we were all still in the afterglow of the experience.

In these two powerful celestial experiences, it struck me that we were all doing something that was so incredibly rare in our age–and something that allowed us to transcend most of the challenges we face: there were no politics, there were no divisions, there was no bullshit consumption, and we were all just human beings outside, connecting with the wonder and being in awe and gratitude of the incredible nature of the universe and planet we call home.  None of these experiences had any commercialism to them: they were free to share, free to experience, and they brought us together. They connected us in wonder, awe, and gratitude.  It felt like in these two moments, we had somehow three vital things often lost to this age: our shared humanity, our connection with the world around us, and our gratitude and wonder of the incredible world we live in.

Envisioning a Better Future and the Building Blocks to Get There

The truth is, I have been thinking and writing lot about how we can actually collectively change the trajectory of humanity and the earth to envision a better future.  How we can bring about a better world, create hope in increasingly dark times, and be better ancestors….yes, you and me. Small potatoes, right? But hey, this is what I’ve dedicated myself to as a druid, artist, herbalist, and permaculturist and I think this is the same path that so many of us feel we need to walk.  The problem is that we don’t have a roadmap.  And of course, every part of our current paradigm/civilization is pushing us in the opposite direction.  And there’s often a huge chasm between the lives we wish we could lead and the actual lives we are forced to lead.

And as anyone who’s been on this blog knows, I’ve spent a tremendous amount of time in my own life and certainly in my writing and teaching exploring how we can shift our lives in the present to craft that better today and tomorrow. A huge part of this is to encourage all of us to learn to live, interact, and connect differently with our living earth in ways that honor the earth and hold the earth in reverence.  I think that often, these kinds of discussions are very practically rooted in what we call “earth path” changes in AODA or what I call Sacred Actions: ways of lessening our demands upon an increasingly fragile and infinite planet to live in more harmony with the earth and consume less in ways that honor the earth. But also, how we can be a force of good to regenerate damaged ecosystems–to rewrite the narrative of what it means to be a human being today. I’ve written two books on this topic:  Sacred Actions: Living the Wheel of the Year through Earth-Centered Sustainable Practices and Land Healing: Physical, Metaphysical, and Ritual Approaches to Healing the Earth.  To me, this is a primary part of transitioning our own living to become better ancestors.

But, wow, this is really hard work, and it’s growing harder and harder by the day.  Everyone can see the radical changes and destabilization that are happening across the earth–the destruction of the biosphere, the increase in climate-related extreme weather events, the smoke filling our skies. But just because everyone can see it, the reality of accepting what is happening is a different thing.  This is an age of decline and transition that grows more difficult seemingly by the month. More and more people are being directly impacted by these events, upending lives, as the recent example of Hurricane Helene as shown.  Even so-called climate havens are not safe from what is here. Things are harder now than they were a year ago, much harder than they were five years ago, and we can all see that decline of the stable biosphere that we depend on (all the while the nay-sayers get louder and crazier). It is a heavy, heavy burden to carry. And we are all carrying it.  We have to talk about it, we have to be there for each other in community, and we were born in this time for a reason.  But I feel the weight of it in my very soul.

Thus, I have come to realize that while all of the above is necessary for us to transition, it’s not enough.  If all we do is focus on the really hard work, on the death, on everything that is wrong that we are trying to fix, we are missing a big part of what I think makes these shifts happen.  We are missing the whimsy, the enchantment, the joy, and the wonder. Part of what I’ve learned from these two celestial events is how important exploring the enchantment of the world, the wonder, and the joy of everyday life and being in nature really is to make these transitions.

And this is why, lately, I’ve turned my attention to other ways of considering how we make these shifts. As a druid, I recognize that balance is a critical part of anything worth doing. Light and dark, sun and moon, winter and summer–these are the seasons and cycles of our world, and these are also necessary in the work before us. We have to actively work to balance all of the above doom and gloom with that which is good–of light, of healing, and of joy. It is too easy to fall into despair.  It is too easy to shut down and grow apathetic from a sense of being overwhelmed. We have to seek out and cultivate the wonder of life.  Because that’s really what it is about–not just what we are moving away from but what we are moving toward and the benefits that movement offers!

Cultivating Wonder

What is wonder? Wonder is a feeling, it is an experience, and it is a mindset.  Wonder may be caused by something beautiful, unexpected, or amazing.  Wonder is tied to admiration, fascination, joy, amazement, and gratitude.  It may also be sparked by our curiosity, where we interact with the world, be inquisitive, and ask questions.  There are actually a few definitions of wonder, but I think they are all fairly connected, as I’ll share.

I think that we have so many opportunities for wonder, and part of it is just allowing ourselves to see them.  While I opened this post with celestial events that would make any human experience a sense of wonder, we don’t need massive events to have wonder.  I make it a point to experience some wonder each day–to find the wonder in so many different aspects of wonder.

Cultivating wonder. Let me first explore this idea of “cultivation.” In my day job as a learning researcher and social scientist, I’ve done a lot of research on the differences between people’s actions and life trajectories, and how those trajectories are shaped by their internal states of mind and being.  And one of the things I’ve come to understand is that we have a tremendous power to control our mindsets towards the world.  We are all powerfully shaped by our past experiences, but ultimately, we set the tone for our own responses to those experiences.  We can decide our mentality to the world–are we going to be apathetic and bitter? Are we going to be open and full of wonder?  Are we going to let the past consume us? Further, these mindsets towards the world are not set in stone. If we choose to change our mindsets, we can change, powerfully so. So everything that I’m sharing takes the perspective that wonder is something we can cultivate and build into our lives.  It is a choice, it is a state of being, and it is something we can habituate over time.

So, begin simply by making space and time for wonder.  Go out and experience the world.  Try to see the world with new eyes–the eyes of a child.  Make it an active part of your life.  Consider areas where you might explore this further–seeing beautiful sunsets or sunrises, visiting majestic places, but also exploring the wonder of nature right outside your door.

Making time for the sacred. We need to make time for wonder and connection with the living earth.  If we are too busy or too immersed in our screens, we will never have the opportunity to experience wonder.  (I wonder how many people were in their houses on their screens rather than seeing the Aurora Borealis earlier this week? A real shame!). We are all so busy and torn and our attention is pulled in a million directions.  This is why I spent the past two weeks sharing about how to ditch the screen and embrace the green! One of the things that I have done that really helps with cultivating wonder is just creating space for it.  Taking open, unstructured time outside to wander, wonder, and connect.

I wonder…Curiosity and learning as a space for wonder. Another tool I’ve used is to regularly learn about nature by first asking questions, to use curiosity-as-wonder to transition into awe-inspired wonder.  Look at any part of nature and ask questions.  I have been spending a lot of time observing the spiders in our house–we have “cellar spiders” who are beautiful with long legs.  I’ve become friends with them, and enjoy observing how they operate and where they choose to make their webs.  I also ensure they are protected and their active webs do not get cleaned or brushed away.  To build my relationship with them, I began asking questions to cultivate my curiosity.  What are these spiders? How long do they live? What is their life cycle like? In reading about them, I learned that the cellar spiders may live for two or three years.  They may go without nourishment for up to 60 days.  The ones I hung out with 6 months ago absolutely are still around.  Now, when I look at these spiders now, because of this newfound knowledge, I see them with a deeper sense of wonder and awe.You can do this with any aspect of nature.  It can be fascinating to approach learning about the world from a place of wonder: I “wonder” leading to wonder

Asking questions can lead you in really interesting directions because the world really is a fascinating place. Another one you can explore is sacred geometry.  The more you learn about this and how to spot it in the world, the more wonder you can experience–the sacred spiral that is in everything from our entire galaxy and universe to the smallest spiral in the unfolding of the petal of the New England Aster.  The Fibonacci sequence, the golden mean, the different patterns of nature and how they are reflected literally everywhere you look. This kind of knowledge breeds wonder.

Reseeing the every day and observing in new ways. Wonder can be cultivated by learning to re-see the world with different lenses.

Choose one thing about the natural world and spend time closely observing. A leaf, a snail, a flower, a mushroom. Spend a lot of time just observing how the stems grow, how the flowers unfold and unfurl–you will be amazed if you simply create this moment.

Another way to resee the every day is to get yourself a magnifying glass–it is amazing to see the world magnified.  When I teach herbalism, I often bring hand-held magnifying glasses and jeweler’s loupes and let people look at plants up close.  It amazes me how just a little time spent in observation with one of these tools can change everything.  People have written to me weeks and months later saying how five minutes with a magnifying lens changed their entire relationship to plants!  That’s certainly a space of wonder.

The same can be said with a telescope or microscope.  Go big or go small, and be filled with wonder at what you an see from these new perspectives.

Spending time with curious others. Take time to enjoy these experiences with others.  For one, you can learn from the experts: small children. In fact, I suggest you regularly spend some time with young children, as they see the world in a beautiful and wonder-filled way.  Follow them, learn from them, see what they are paying attention to, and it can fill your heart with joy and wonder.

But you can also enjoy quite a lot with your friends if they are also of the right mindset–your wonder and their wonder can build and grow together, and taking a magical, whimsical walk in the woods can lead to so many moments of awe and wonder.  Don’t take any cynical or jaded people with you–bring ones who are naturally curious and who want to frolic and be in joy.

Bring in the bardic arts.  I love bringing in and connecting the bardic arts to wonder. This can lead to some very interesting songs, stories, paintings, and more.  I like to bring my bardic tools and either in the moment or afterward, create something from it.  In fact, this entire blog post flowed out of me in only a few hours in one sitting (which is rare for me) after the Aurora Borealis.  It just came into my head and wouldn’t leave till I wrote it!

Wander into wonder. When I go somewhere, I often purposely try not to learn too much about where I’m going.  I may hike a new trail I’ve never hiked before, explore an unknown place or city, and just see what the experience has to offer.  This means I have less control, but more opportunities for surprise and wonder.  Try it and see what happens!

Conclusion

I hope this post brings you some joy, curiosity, and wonder! Please share your own moments of wonder or ways to cultivate wonder in the comments.  Be well, my friends, and may your world be filled with wonder.