Reflections on the Balance of Life

I recorded my thoughts this morning, and now it is the evening of the same day. I decided to sit in one of my favorite spots in my yard, next to the lonely oak tree where my first pet, Jellybean (a rabbit), is buried, to record a visual for the audio I recorded in the YouTube video linked above (I recommend listening to my morning reflection before continuing to read.) I took the opportunity of being isolated from my phone to simply observe my surroundings. It’s silly now that I think about how this was once my regular activity as a kid, no technology, just the wonder of the world outside, but now it’s an oddity for me to slow down enough to observe the universe that exists in the grass where I sit.

First, I noticed tiny, underdeveloped acorns scattered amongst the mix of moss, grass, clover, plantain, dandelion, and dozens of other species of ground cover. In my 25 years of living with this spot of land, I’ve never seen an acorn from this tree, I’ve been convinced that this tree simply wasn’t producing fruit. Then I noticed the exoskeleton of a centipede, another new discovery. I observed the hollowness of the skeleton, how the sections flexed and curled, and imagined the unity of the many legs scurrying about. Not too far away, I notice yet another gift, the smallest freshly ripened wild strawberry covered in petite seeds. I’ve anxiously checked our many patches of wild strawberries for years and never seemed to catch a glimpse before the critters feast, but today I did. To the left of the berry, I discovered a caterpillar munching on a leaf. I watched as they took a few bites and then froze as if exhausted from the fare but continued again a few moments later. An ant then crawled along the back of this caterpillar, but they did not seem to mind; in fact, they were completely unphased during their dinner. What an interesting thought, the idea of so many species moving around each other, and in this case, on top of one another, in complete harmony. I then watched in awe as the ant crawled and climbed each sliver of grass, every bunch of clover flowers, without disturbing a piece of greenery at all. I imagine that from the ant’s perspective, it must be comparable to a monkey jaunting from branch to branch in a jungle. An incomprehensible universe of unknown vastness, yet the ant seems quite content meandering about their day in their minute section of the universe. I wonder, aren’t we all but an ant in our own realm of an incomprehensible universe of unknown vastness? Do the stars watch us in curious wonder as we wander about our days? Do we seem as content as the ant from the simplicity of an outside perspective? Why is it so hard for us humans to feel as free as this ant crawling about or the caterpillar fueling their next adventure? Can we reach that beautiful state of existence?

It's through this moment of stillness, of quiet, that I am overwhelmed in observation and reflection. I feel incredibly grateful for this slow moment gifted to me by the side effect of another project. I can’t confidently say I would have intentionally gone out and sought this moment today if not for the mission that sent me to this spot. Maybe this isn’t really all that slow of a moment; after all, who am I to judge the speed of anything here in the world? What if this is the pace life should be moving at? I should also note the fact that I may be sitting in stillness in the grass, but there are millions of beings moving at their highest speeds in the jungle of grass around me. That being said, how could I ever define this moment as slow when there is so much life swirling around me?

As I mention in the audio, today, I did indeed continue on, and here I am 10 hours later in a completely different mood, a different energy, and a different mindset. I suppose this is a reminder that I needed of the balance in life, even within one sunup to sundown. Some things remain consistent, though. In the audio, you will hear my 15-year-old dog Bubba snoring and my 14-year-old Conure chirping as they are typically glued to my side whenever possible. As I write this while simultaneously recording the visual, my other dog Joey is running through the shot, keeping me company as he, too, observes the world of life around us. I don’t know what is a better analogy for my relationship with my beloved animals; are they the anchor grounding me to the harmony of the natural world? Or are they the life preserver lightening the weight I carry as I swim through the uncertain waters of life? Maybe both are accurate representations. Either way, I am eternally grateful for their love and the gifts waiting for me to notice their presence amongst the natural world.

Happy Summer Solstice.