Tonight I am burning some of the sage I found this past week, and remembering that nothing happens according to schedule; when life coincides with schedules, we are in some way, living according to the rhythms and patterns of nature. Nature doesn’t care what’s in our notebooks, calendars or e-mail. If I made it to all those meetings, coffees, and ran all those errands, by the time the weekend comes around, nature will show me what’s natural–that I need to rest.
And despite our human predilection to tear down and build with the elements we take from nature, as much as we strive to be “masters” of nature, we are not. At best, we can be stewards, but even that is difficult when the way we live is intricately interlaced with our excessive use of water, fuel, and ‘things.’ Even when I am gardening, it is so incredibly connected to buying things. But those beautiful plants are so faithful, even when they live under the fickle will of what I “want.”
There was a time when I took the time to burn sage every single day, when I tied my prayers into small bundles, and when I gave away more than I kept. Right now I’m aware how taking my “professional” life too seriously is exactly that–taking it TOO seriously. I am not my work, nor am I governed by its expectations on my time. When my life has become compressed by my busy schedule, I need to remember that I am the one who walked into this house of mirrors, and not to believe what I see is real.
When I burn sage, it helps me see the smoky nature of everything, and I am invited to come back to the world of wind and water, wood and stone. I am reminded that there is a choice, but that I am never without insight unless I fail to let myself see, so busy colliding with my own reflection that I can’t tell where I’m going unless I connect with the ground, the earth.