Today I reconnected myself with the Earth.
I didn’t know where I was going when I hopped on my bike, but I trusted the guidance of the great Spirit in the brilliant blue Sky, the shining Sun, the Wind that rustled the Leaves on the Trees, and the scare but beautifully formed white Clouds hovering in the distant Air. IT led me to a secret, sacred place. It is, I’m sure, a place that very few citizens in this city know about. They probably don’t care to know.
Hidden between two walls of trees changing colors runs a stream. A manmade path led me to Nature’s path that led me to the Stream.
I walked my bike further down the narrow dirt path surrounded by tall yellow and green grasses until I reached a place invisible to the outside world. The “outside world”, of course, meaning all things unnatural that would pollute Earth’s fragile soil—but this place remains preserved and practically untouched despite the flaws of modern modifications to civilized Cheyenne. I set my bike up against a tree with about five thick branches sprouting up from the ground a few feet above the Water.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I sat in the cradle that those branches formed, facing the stream, and wished I had brought a book to read. When I looked up, a small yellow dot shone through the yellowing puff of leaves on top of a branch that swooped up over the River on the opposite side. I had ventured down this path once before, but I hadn’t taken the time to sit in a Tree’s cradle. I realized that I was not only sitting in a tree above the water—I was sitting in a living chair. A chair with roots connected to the Earth. A book wasn’t necessary; I savored that moment, acquainting myself with this new place in solitude.
I took in my surroundings, the beautiful living things that are only seen by the crawdads and leeches from day to day. I breathed in the surprisingly warm air appreciatively. Then I began to talk, to ask favors of the Spirit that I found myself so connected to in that moment. I also spoke of my gratitude. I was so grateful to have absorbed so much Sun on an October day and found a place in Nature to meditate, right in the middle of civilization.
Eventually I stood up on the branch but I didn’t feel like leaving this peaceful place, so I began to stretch. Before I was aware of my actions, I was doing the Tree Pose in a Tree. I stretched my arms out parallel to the branches. Salutes to the Sun while facing the sun behind that patch of leaves in the sky followed my tree poses. It was then that I finally understood why doing yoga in nature is the real way to do yoga, and the most beneficial way.
My feet were suffering in my modern moccasins, though, and I had to get them off. I climbed out of the tree and walked further down the path until I found another opening to the stream where I walked down and sunk my feet into the wet sand. I sat down and immersed both feet in the Water, glad to finally be officially reconnected with the Earth again. The water washed up memories of cleansing my body with water in a similar hidden stream that I’d discovered last year in Laramie, the town I dreaded living in (until I found that stream to dip my feet in). These water sources are so real to me—raw, unfiltered water that falls from a Higher ground and mixes with the Earth and its various stones to become healing. Holy water. So I washed my legs and arms with this same holy water that connects all living beings and became one with it all.
Upon emerging from the depths of the Earth, I felt instantly more awake than I had when I first entered. My senses were more intense. I could breathe clearer. I thanked whatever it was that led me there, and I thanked my own trust in that intuitive sense. I thanked the wheels of my bike that took me there even when I was hesitant to use my own strength.