Sit Spot

I sit in my sit spot, with the intent to meditate. I take a few deep breaths. The meditation I do in this spot is more like mindful awareness or forest bathing. I attune to all my senses and remain more alert than in other meditation. Usually, though, my head takes over for most of the experience.

I scan my surroundings, noting all the plants from large to small. Hemlock, spruce, yellow birch, white birch, oak, fir, ash, red maple, hobblebush, plume moss, sphagnum moss, my dendrology brain is in full swing.

Reset. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Sunlight filtering through the autumn leaves. The hemlock has caught many of the yellow and red maple leaves. They are resting in her canopy before they make their final descent. The woods are alive with the wind, branches swaying back and forth like the pace of my breath. They give me the gift of breath, and I feel a warm feeling of gratitude. This is mindful awareness, and it feels serene.

I have arrived, for a moment.

A chipmunk catches my eye. He scurries down a hemlock, across a fallen branch. He seems in a hurry and like he is on a mission. All the critters, from the smallest minnow to the black bear, are attuned with the changing seasons, and it is time for their winter preparations. I wonder if the chipmunk knows what is happening. I wonder if he senses it in his bones. I wonder if it drives him to hoard just a few more acorns, if he senses the impending scarcity. Reset.

Reset. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Closing my eyes, I listen now. I hear what I didn’t hear before. I thought it was a perfectly silent afternoon in the woods, but the forest sounds now fill my ears. The wind first, and then the birds calling to one another. Even the faint sound of the leaves landing on the forest floor. The sound of the chipmunk friend.

Reset. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

He seemed quite content while he scurried on that branch, living his best life, just doing his thing. I feel a bit of envy. I don’t enjoy knowing what I know. I wonder what it may feel like to be him, and not be burdened by this thing that sets humans apart – a large brain in our skulls that is capable of conscious thought, cognitively advanced, and able to think, think, think. Too much thinking. I wonder again, does he know?

Reset. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Post Script

I wrote this piece for a Climate Art course by Nicole Kelner. This course, along with material from Stephanie Chinn, has allowed me to explore what it means to be creative. Maybe even “a” creative. could it become a part of my identity?

I had this story for a long time:“I’m not a creative person.”

But these women sparked me to think outside of the box of what creativity is. It can include writing, and is also much more about the process itself rather than the output.

I was surprised to even find two of my pieces featured in Nicole’s newsletter recently (see below), advertising for her upcoming cohort. It reaffirmed the idea that the creative act, and art itself, is much more expansive than how we often narrowly define it.