Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
—John Muir
(All the photos in this post are (c) L Egle, 2010. All rights reserved)
The Zen of Autumn There’s a place I go, which is not thousands of miles away, where the past, present and future become a timeless sort of moment—where ‘nature reigns supreme’ and it’s easy to stop thinking and doing and to start…simply…being.
I’m not sure if the magic comes from what I see…the vibrant gold, orange and crimson colored leaves falling, like feathers, from the trees, to their new home: the earth and the nearby water, which feeds into a nearby river.
Or maybe it’s certain leaves, some still green, remaining on their branches as long as they can, waiting for their moment…to fall.
It could very well be the water itself—which is neither a babbling brook nor a raging river, but something in between—which keeps flowing and creating vibrant waves of color, blurring into each other, assisted by the shimmering sunlight.
What I do know is that when I sit on a boulder, amidst these gorgeous watery reflections, I feel something—a zenlike “it”—a Taoist “ah hah”—and I’m beyond grateful for it. And I’m inviting you, right now, to join me.
Let’s fall…into the moment….together.
As the water meanders and makes it way to wherever, my mind slows down and I become part of this living water color, which looks and feels like something one might encounter in Japan or…simply somewhere else. But it’s neither of those places. And I think that’s the real beauty of it. It’s not…out there. It’s…right here. Somewhere you’d never expect (to be revealed later).
The rapidly moving water reminds me of my life, which is generally too hectic. I know I’ve been moving too fast lately—much faster than this water and I’ve also been out of the moment too much. And out of balance.
But now, for the moment, I’m actually…in the moment, breathing and taking it all in. And as this is happening, I have a brief, but important epiphany. Nature makes regular meditation, something that’s normally impossible for me….possible.
My mind wanders as I feel the cool, crisp air. I think about the days, which are growing shorter. I begin to plan blog posts. I wonder when I’ll get back to writing my memoirs….still stuck on a certain chapter. I think about a student’s essay, one that wasn’t passing.
I picture my new nephew, just three months old, and anticipate seeing him. I crave a cup of hot cocoa….imagine the warmth of a fireplace in a cabin…then, thinking of winter—a season I dislike—I fantasize about a trip thousands of miles away–somewhere warm… I then wonder about the logistics of the upcoming Thanksgiving meal…who’s going where, etc.
And then, I catch myself. Those moments are not this one, the water reminds me. Just look and listen, it whispers…
Past, Present & Future—a Timeless Moment
I hear the past—the water that’s made its way beyond my boulder. It’s there, but gradually fading into the distance…
I can also catch a glimpse of the future—the water that’s up ahead and moving in my direction. But it’s not here yet…soon, it will be. It’s OK—and even good—to peek at it. Just not too much.
And the present is….right here. I think of Ram Dass: “Be here now.” I remember the time I met him, many years ago, and the hug we shared and how he signed a copy of his book.
I also remember the book’s message and so, I return to the moment, which nature calls me to. It’s the now—which is the one to be cherished. And if my mind drifts again, all I have to do is…look at the beauty around me. Listen to the sound of the water, which is continualy moving. See the vibrant colors. Feel the gentle breeze. Take in the fresh autumn air…
So…what and where is this special place where nature creates a zen-like harmony that I enjoy so often? Where is this magical place that I rush off to as soon as I get back from a long trip, thousands of miles across the planet?
It’s a place known as “The Gorge.” The water is the South Branch of the Raritan River and the area, which appears to be a gorge within a mountain (but isn’t), is called the Ken Lockwood Gorge, named after an outdoor journalist and conservationist who was an advocate for land conservation. And it’s right in—are you ready for this?
New Jersey. Yes, NJ. It may surprise some, but those of use who live here know that there are some real gems if you just travel north, south or west of New York.
It may also surprise you that I go there so frequently. Even though traveling far and wide makes me happy and puts me in the moment more than anything, I recognize that the same thing can sometimes happen….right here.
I think I’ve said enough at this point…I’ll leave you with the words of others. Their quotes seem to capture “it” for me…which is why I want to share them with you…
When facing a single tree, if you look at a single one of its red leaves, you will not see all the others. When the eye is not set on one leaf, and you face the tree with nothing at all in mind, any number of leaves are visible to the eye without limit. But if a single leaf holds the eye, it will be as if the remaining leaves were not there.
—Takuan Soto
Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower.
—Albert Camus
There is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
—Percy Bysshe Shelley
Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.
—William Cullen Bryant
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How About You?
Is there a special place in nature—a river, a park, etc.—that you find wonderful, which happens to be local? Where is it and what is it like, especially now in middle of autumn? How does it make you feel?