When you have been listening to it for a long time, the Language of Nature requires no translation. Recently, a bald eagle was riding a thermal outside my door. Two days later, I was hiking our local mountain with my mind stressing on running a business at tax time. At the vista point, I took in the thirty-mile view. The bald eagle took flight and soared calmly to the North. As my eyes followed her, my focus widened. I gasped, my mind emptied and slowed. I watched her soar over the emerald plains and in the telepathic language that is the mother tongue of us all, I heard, “Think bigger Jolie, what is your vision?”
I continued my climb. It took a quarter-mile for my constricted mind to dilate and encompass the bigger field of my life. Slightly winded, I came to the next sweeping view, and once again the magnificent bird perched in wait. She flew over the expansive green lands, over pastures and homes, and the goings-on of things. My mind stilled and I heard only a clear voice. Maybe it was my own nature, maybe the eagle, maybe Divine spirit, maybe all three are the same? “Stop worrying about money Jolie, there is work to be done. Let’s get to it.”
The Eagle challenged me to get my head out of the excel spreadsheets and ask bigger questions: What is my vision? What to do with my short life? The answers flew out easily: To be fluent in the language of nature; to feel beloved on this Earth; to act on behalf of all life; to serve as a guide for those who want the same. In the days of kids in cages and teenagers in the white house, it might feel like nurturing a relationship with nature is unessential, but trust me, it is a radical act. When we align with our sacred, sentient Earth, our nature supports and moves through us to heal our collective home.