“So place the acorn of yourself here, in the patch of soil that is your life, and let the growing begin.”
— Asia Suler, Mirrors in the Earth

There’s something profound that happens when we step outside and truly see the world around us. Not the hurried glance as we rush from car to building, but the deep, intentional seeing that comes when we allow ourselves to be still in nature’s presence.

The Language Nature Speaks

Nature has a way of speaking directly to our souls in a language that bypasses our thinking minds and goes straight to our hearts. When we’re feeling overwhelmed by life’s complexities, a single moment watching clouds drift across the sky can remind us that everything passes. When we’re grieving, the sight of new buds on a seemingly dead tree whispers promises of renewal.

The earth holds space for all of our emotions without judgment. She doesn’t try to fix us or rush our healing. She simply is—present, patient, and eternally offering her quiet wisdom.

Think about how the seasons mirror our own inner rhythms. Spring arrives with its tentative green shoots, much like the first stirrings of hope after a difficult period. Summer blazes with full expression, like those times when we feel most alive and authentic. Autumn teaches us about the beauty of letting go, showing us how release can be graceful rather than tragic. And winter invites us into the sacred pause, the restorative silence that comes before new growth.

When the Earth Becomes Our Teacher

I’ve learned that nature doesn’t offer quick fixes or easy answers. Instead, she offers something more valuable: perspective. When my own life feels chaotic, I find myself drawn to mountains and forests, where their ageless majesty inspires patience and trust in the wisdom of mother nature.

Trees have become my teachers in resilience. I watch the aspen tree in my backyard bend in fierce winds without breaking, her roots holding deep while her branches dance with whatever comes. She’s weathered storms I can’t imagine, yet each spring she clothes herself in new leaves with what seems like pure joy.

The birds remind me about presence. They don’t worry about tomorrow’s worms or yesterday’s failed flights. They simply sing at dawn, build their nests with whatever materials they find, and trust that life will provide what they need.

The Healing Rhythms of Earth

There’s a reason we instinctively seek nature when our hearts are heavy. The earth holds a different pace than our hurried world—one that invites us to slow down, breathe deeper, and remember what truly matters.

Try to notice how your body responds to different natural environments. Do you find peace in gardens, where the act of tending plants becomes a meditation on nurturing and growth? Do you feel most centered by large bodies of water, where the vastness helps you put your problems in perspective? Or do you need the grounding energy of mountains or forests, places where ancient wisdom feels almost tangible?

The Mirror of Seasons in Our Lives

As human animals who have lived long enough to see many seasons come and go, we understand something that younger people are still learning: life is cyclical, not linear. We’ve experienced our own springs of new beginnings, summers of full bloom, autumns of harvest and release, and winters of rest and reflection.

Nature reflects this truth back to us constantly. The garden that looks dead in February holds seeds of spectacular blooms beneath the soil. The tree that sheds every leaf in autumn isn’t dying—it’s gathering energy for its next expression of life.

When we’re in difficult seasons of our own lives—times of loss, transition, or uncertainty—nature reminds us that fallow periods are not failures. They’re essential parts of the cycle. Just as the earth needs winter’s rest to prepare for spring’s explosion of growth, our souls sometimes need periods of quiet, of seeming emptiness, to gather strength for what’s coming next.

Finding Your Sacred Spaces

You don’t need to live in the wilderness to connect with nature’s healing presence. Sacred spaces can be found anywhere—a single houseplant that greets you each morning, a corner of your yard where the light falls just right, a park bench where you can watch the world wake up.

The key isn’t finding the perfect natural setting—it’s about cultivating the willingness to be present with whatever nature offers you right where you are.

The Wisdom of Imperfection

One of nature’s greatest gifts is her acceptance of imperfection. The most beautiful flowers bloom from crooked stems. Ancient trees bear scars from lightning strikes and storms, yet they continue to grow skyward. Rivers carve their own paths, sometimes meandering, sometimes rushing, always moving toward their destination in their own perfect timing.

In our youth-obsessed culture, nature reminds us that beauty deepens with age. The gnarled hands of an old apple tree tell stories of seasons weathered and fruit given. The face of a cliff, carved by wind and water over millennia, holds more character than any smooth surface.

For those of us in our sixties and beyond, this natural wisdom is especially healing. We live in a world that often makes us feel invisible or past our prime. But nature shows us a different truth: that every stage of life has its own beauty, its own purpose, its own gifts to offer.

The Practice of Deep Seeing

Learning to truly see nature—to move beyond casual observation to deep witnessing—is a practice that transforms both what we see and who we become. It’s about noticing the small miracles hiding in plain sight: the way morning dew turns spider webs into jeweled masterpieces, how a single bird’s song can cut through the noise of traffic and reach your heart, the way afternoon light turns ordinary leaves into stained glass windows.

This practice of deep seeing naturally extends inward. As we learn to appreciate the subtle beauty in nature’s constant changes, we begin to see our own lives with more gentle eyes. We start to notice our own seasons, our own cycles of rest and growth, our own quiet miracles.

Coming Home to Yourself

The most profound healing nature offers isn’t really about nature at all—it’s about coming home to ourselves. When we slow down enough to truly connect with the natural world, we remember something essential: we belong here. We are not separate from nature; we are part of it.

Your breath mirrors the rhythm of waves on the shore. Your blood flows like rivers through your body. Your bones are made of the same minerals as mountains. You are not a visitor to this earth—you are a piece of it, temporarily organized into the beautiful, complex, ever-changing form that is you.

In a world that often feels chaotic and disconnected, nature calls us back to this fundamental truth: you belong. Your story matters. Your season—whatever season you’re in right now—has meaning and purpose.

So step outside, even if it’s just for a moment. Place your feet on the earth and remember that you are held by something larger and older and more enduring than any worry you carry. Let the wind remind you that life is movement, change, possibility. Let the sky show you how vast and open your future can be.

Place the acorn of yourself here, in this moment, in this patch of soil that is your life. Trust that everything you need for growing is already within you, waiting for the right conditions to unfold.

The earth is patient. She will wait while you remember who you are.

---

You may also like:

Three Healing Autumn Tea Blends for Women Over 60

---

Navigating Change