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Posted: January 31st, 2008 at 2:20am By: Anne E. Ulvestad
"Majestic," I thought, as I saw the sun shining through the marsh grasses. Immediately, my mind reneged, "No, 'majestic' is a word for humans, and this sight is beyond anything we could imagine." The grasses rose over my head, translucent, as sunlight filled them with an indescribable range of golden hues. Midas' touch paled in front of the reception this humble vegetation gave the sun's glory.
The next moment a call from the trees precipitated the flight of a pair of bald eagles who had been resting in a loblolly pine some yards ahead. Again, the word "majestic" failed to describe the power and grace of these magnificent beings as they winged their way over the Blackwater River. I etched their flight in my mind to remember for years to come.
Grasses, eagles, loblolly and me — what is the connection? I was at the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge to begin the new year. As I was looking for connections to begin this year with, I thought the diversity of the Eastern Shore marsh and forest haven for migratory birds and endangered species would provide a rich environment for me to explore possibilities and potentials.
How does one usually begin a new year? With resolutions, pledges, a promise to one's self or others. I wanted to begin this new year with a promise to God. This year was an opportunity for me to re-story my life. What did I want to promise? I wanted to promise to make and explore connections.
The web of life is all about connections. Each tiny piece plays a significant role. Each decision or choice creates limitless patterns and relationships. One qualifying factor, though, is the strength of the bond. The stronger the bond, the bigger, more complex or more intricate the pattern.
Another qualifying factor, and perhaps a more important one, is the root or point of connection. The more pure the root, the more clean and clear the design. Another is the intent or purpose of the connection. Our choice of life, what we want, the way we live, all decide the direction of the connection and the desired outcome or beauty of the pattern.
The Blackwater Refuge seemed to be created with these three things in mind. Combining marsh, agricultural fields, forest, visitor and wildlife management, the complexity, clarity and beauty of the place is self-evident. And, as I saw the moment I stepped within its bounds, it was not a human-made pattern of beauty, but one that we could participate in, and make a difference in through our appreciation and acknowledgment of it.
But right now I want to look at where I start. What do I promise? How do I begin? With the principles of creation, the answer came back. The root of my connection begins with my anchoring into the depth of meaning that I am God's, His daughter, the love of His life. The more I believe that, the clearer I become. What are my connections beyond work, family and relationships? What is it that is the source of my strength and hope? As I stood in the forest, I found that the source of the stream of intuition and inspiration that feeds my soul is none other than the origin of this beautiful creation unfolding within me.
Gradually, eventually, I want to allow that root to pervade every aspect of my life as I allow myself to see beneath the surface. As can be seen in the intricacy of a snowflake or a spider's web, there really is an overarching simplicity of pattern that guides us all. I will strengthen that bond by opening myself every moment to a God-filled, awe-filled anticipation and appreciation of beauty.
In this way, the end could never justify the means, because the ingredients are what make the meal edible and delicious. Beauty is a product of the purpose and direction of the connection. As I drove out of the park, I had to stop one last time. The sun was setting, and there on the water, even reflecting on the soil bank itself, were the last vestiges of its rays, turning everything golden. In this one last kiss before sleeping, the sun offered me the reality of that dream of life and love.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. Having gotten her MA in earth literacy, she is now embarking on the further adventures of a Ph.D. in Wisdom Studies. She is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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"Majestic," I thought, as I saw the sun shining through the marsh grasses. Immediately, my mind reneged, "No, 'majestic' is a word for humans, and this sight is beyond anything we could imagine." The grasses rose over my head, translucent, as sunlight filled them with an indescribable range of golden hues. Midas' touch paled in front of the reception this humble vegetation gave the sun's glory.
The next moment a call from the trees precipitated the flight of a pair of bald eagles who had been resting in a loblolly pine some yards ahead. Again, the word "majestic" failed to describe the power and grace of these magnificent beings as they winged their way over the Blackwater River. I etched their flight in my mind to remember for years to come.
Grasses, eagles, loblolly and me — what is the connection? I was at the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge to begin the new year. As I was looking for connections to begin this year with, I thought the diversity of the Eastern Shore marsh and forest haven for migratory birds and endangered species would provide a rich environment for me to explore possibilities and potentials.
How does one usually begin a new year? With resolutions, pledges, a promise to one's self or others. I wanted to begin this new year with a promise to God. This year was an opportunity for me to re-story my life. What did I want to promise? I wanted to promise to make and explore connections.
The web of life is all about connections. Each tiny piece plays a significant role. Each decision or choice creates limitless patterns and relationships. One qualifying factor, though, is the strength of the bond. The stronger the bond, the bigger, more complex or more intricate the pattern.
Another qualifying factor, and perhaps a more important one, is the root or point of connection. The more pure the root, the more clean and clear the design. Another is the intent or purpose of the connection. Our choice of life, what we want, the way we live, all decide the direction of the connection and the desired outcome or beauty of the pattern.
The Blackwater Refuge seemed to be created with these three things in mind. Combining marsh, agricultural fields, forest, visitor and wildlife management, the complexity, clarity and beauty of the place is self-evident. And, as I saw the moment I stepped within its bounds, it was not a human-made pattern of beauty, but one that we could participate in, and make a difference in through our appreciation and acknowledgment of it.
But right now I want to look at where I start. What do I promise? How do I begin? With the principles of creation, the answer came back. The root of my connection begins with my anchoring into the depth of meaning that I am God's, His daughter, the love of His life. The more I believe that, the clearer I become. What are my connections beyond work, family and relationships? What is it that is the source of my strength and hope? As I stood in the forest, I found that the source of the stream of intuition and inspiration that feeds my soul is none other than the origin of this beautiful creation unfolding within me.
Gradually, eventually, I want to allow that root to pervade every aspect of my life as I allow myself to see beneath the surface. As can be seen in the intricacy of a snowflake or a spider's web, there really is an overarching simplicity of pattern that guides us all. I will strengthen that bond by opening myself every moment to a God-filled, awe-filled anticipation and appreciation of beauty.
In this way, the end could never justify the means, because the ingredients are what make the meal edible and delicious. Beauty is a product of the purpose and direction of the connection. As I drove out of the park, I had to stop one last time. The sun was setting, and there on the water, even reflecting on the soil bank itself, were the last vestiges of its rays, turning everything golden. In this one last kiss before sleeping, the sun offered me the reality of that dream of life and love.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. Having gotten her MA in earth literacy, she is now embarking on the further adventures of a Ph.D. in Wisdom Studies. She is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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