Tag Archives: Nature

Polar Bear Nature

Polar bear with nose in airThis morning, just like every other morning, I was out walking. But this morning it was a frigid 5 degrees, a temperature I long for all year. I know, for some, this is absolutely crazy! But for me, nothing makes me feel more, alive, more vital,  one with nature. I absolutely love the feeling of the stinging frost on my cheeks, and light, bracing wind piercing my being.

I looked at the sun, my favorite sun of the year, silvery, icy, distant yet glowing, a detached sun. Today I felt aglow knowing that soon a child of mine is soon to birth a child…today, tomorrow, the next. Hot, salty tears rolled my face, hot and freezing at the same time!

That glowing globe, the snow, the icy, slushy roads, put me in touch with what I call my polar bear nature…strong, solitary, nose in the air sniffing it all out, moving forward, connected to all that is, not knowing yet taking the next step, and the next, and the next. What will be, will be…nature is already taking its course! More tears roll as Mother Nature rolls on in me, in my daughter.

Finding Possibility

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by Umair Haque

Umair Haque wrote this piece entitled “Finding Possibility.” Umair is a thought leader, consultant and author whose personal journey from the achievement and trappings of success to a devastating fatal diagnosis and beyond helped him find peace, happiness and a passion to give to others. Here is an excerpt from one of  his reflections called The Sky in Us: Holding Possibility, an argument for transcending rationality and seeing the world and ourselves as possibility.

We do not really try bold things anymore, do we? Our ambitions are limited to staving off further decline. This is a lack of spirit, isn’t it?

Holding mind too close always breaks the spirit. The mind only believes in what is probable. It is limited by what has been.

Would the seed ever break the soil that way? Would the river ever reach the ocean? Would the rain ever burst the cloud?

So in this age of mind, this age of little delusions and big thoughts, if we are really to change anything at all, let us begin with us. And just discover that we are not only mind desperately clinging to self, like the clouds trying to contain the sky. How can they?


We are heart longing for possibility, and spirit containing impossibility. That is the sky in us.

The seed contains the tree, the tree contains the forest, the forest contains the rain, the rain contains the river, the river contains the ocean, the ocean contains the sky.

There is everything in that one seed. The sky is born right there in it.

Let us see the world that way.

Meditation on Weathering: The Inevitability of Aging

weatheringWeathering
by Fleur Adcock

My face catches the wind
from the snow line
and flushes with a flush

that will never wholly settle.
Well, that was a metropolitan vanity,
wanting to look young forever, to pass.
I was never a pre-Raphaelite beauty
and only pretty enough to be seen
with a man who wanted to be seen
with a passable woman.

But now that I am in love
with a place that doesn’t care
how I look and if I am happy,
happy is how I look and that’s all.
My hair will grow grey in any case,
my nails chip and flake,
my waist thicken, and the years
work all their usual changes.

If my face is to be weather beaten as well,
it’s little enough lost
for a year among the lakes and vales
where simply to look out my window
at the high pass
makes me indifferent to mirrors
and to what my soul may wear
over its new complexion.

I have a favorite bench that overlooks Lake Michigan here in Evanston, IL. I call it my “eternity bench” due to an experience, I frequently have when looking at the beach, lake and horizon from there. I often sense something that exists throughout and beyond space and time. However esoteric that may sound, that has been and is my experience there.

Reading the poem, Weathering, I am in touch by something similar  — the inevitability of aging, and the something that connects me to everything over all time and to all of us who have the privilege of aging. Like the author, Fleur Adcock, I look less in my bathroom mirror to find beauty or lack thereof, and look more within to find it.

As I live with my own aging process and that of aging clients, I appreciate our weathering, our regrets and joys, as we sometimes fight against and sometimes drop deeply into the eldership of weathering.

About 30 years ago, I knew a woman who had her face lifted and tucked, implanted, slimmed down, puffed up and pulled so tightly that she had a slightly permanent smile. But she couldn’t laugh because her face couldn’t move. At 75, her face showed no signs of having lived.  It was actually quite sad.

I grow to appreciate my wrinkles, and sun spots, and even a little sagging here and there. Those spots tell me how much pleasure I have had walking the lakefront and the seashore, face up to the elements — wind, rain, snow, sunshine. Ahhh, weathering!