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This fall marks six years since my family and I sold our 27-acre organic farm and the house we had designed and built ourselves—the place my wife and I thought we’d call home our entire lives.
Earlier this year, I adopted a “sit-spotting ” nature meditation practice, which I wish I’d started doing a long time ago.
Every other morning, before dawn, I hike back into the forest behind our rural home, to a secluded spot where a spring-fed stream tumbles down layers of exposed limestone. I sit there for about half an hour, watching a small stretch of the stream and listening to the sounds of the water and the woodland. I journal for a bit, then I hike back home.
Most of us want to believe that the world is fundamentally predictable and safe.
Years ago, as Lent approached, I asked a trusted spiritual counselor what he was going to give up. He gave me a sly grin and said, “I’m giving up giving things up for Lent.”
If we are called to conform ourselves and our culture to the nature of God and the nature of nature, then we can’t simply throw away things.
Ecological spirituality is a way of love, a way of moderation, gratitude, wonder, praise, care, and communion with creation.
Until recently, my family and I lived in a solar-powered home, and the long, sunny days of June were a high point for us.
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