Secrets of Nature

When you think of nature, what comes to your mind? Take a moment and think about it. Maybe you hear some birds singing, some trees blowing in the breeze. Maybe you see some light sparkling along a river. Maybe you see ice covering mountaintops, fish darting in the sea, tigers charging across the Sahara or caterpillars inching along a bright green leaf. Maybe you feel the crisp caress of autumn air, the hot sand sinking beneath your feet, the pelting rain or the crunch of snow. Now think about the fact that all of this activity is happening now, all around the world. So much activity. Impossible to measure.

In any frame of nature at any point in time, activity is bustling. It may be overt as a flock of seagulls diving for fish or as unassuming as a seemingly empty field of grass. But a closer look at the field reveals a teaming of activity. The insects are bustling, the seeds are sprouting, the elements and nutrients are dancing about in their chemical exchanges. The symphony of activity is the bliss of nature. The Earth that never sleeps appears as a peaceful blue green sphere.

Compare the gentle chirping of one cricket outside your window to the wash of hundreds of crickets chirping in a meadow. The wash of activity is the serenity of nature. Nature is not the business of half-hearted pursuits. It is the height of bustling activity. The interrelated bustle is nature’s peace.

A waterfall crashes down upon rocks. Its immeasurable power is its deep peace. Its magnitude is its health. A bee collects nectar from a sun soaked flower. Its purpose and competence is its joy.

The two ingredients that make up nature’s secret sauce are activity and relating. No animal, plant or amoeba ever forgets this to be primary. Activity is happily married to a sense of purpose. You simply don’t see a woodpecker taking no interest in trees. Relating is the activity, and interrelating is the many activities coming into harmony together, like the wash of crickets in the meadow.

The light of spirit is too bright to go unrecognized. A dolphin leaping out from the sea is a triumph, a celebration. A little proud bird on top of a pine tree is the universal anthem of self belief, backed by the power of nature and its bustle of activity.

Spiritedness is without limit. Deep peace is without limit. These things are one and the same. In the heights of joyous activity and movement come the deepest feelings of peace. The wash of a cricket meadow is the electricity within you. You only need to tune in.

The (Active) Art of Loving. Venus enters Aries

In the previous post, the very verdant verity of an inner spring was examined via Erich Fromm’s two existential modes of “having” and “being”.  It seems natural to stick with Fromm for this next transit on Sunday March 21st, as Venus, the Love Goddess goes into action-oriented Aries.

Fromm begins his very popular book, The Art of Loving (1956), with this question:

“Is love an art? Then it requires knowledge and effort. Or is love a pleasant sensation, which to experience is a matter of chance, something one “falls into” if one is lucky?”

As the title suggests, he believes it is an art.  A “faculty” rather than a “feeling”.  A verb rather than a noun.  He sees love as an “activity” rather than a “passivity”, centering primarily on giving rather than receiving.  

For Fromm, we have it all wrong when we try to make ourselves more lovable to attract love.  Thinking this way turns ourselves into self-made commodities, looking for the commodity in others that fit the bill.  The problem becomes a passive problem of being loved, rather than an active affirmation of our capacity to love.  

Fromm himself was an Aries, born right around the time of the vernal equinox.  Spring is a clear display of life, and for Fromm, so is the art of loving.  The name of his book is The Art of Loving, not The Art of Love.  Love, like life, is not a noun, but a verb.

And what does the dedicated artist of love give to others, and to the world?

Fromm says, “he gives his life”.  This, however, is not a sacrifice. He further explains,

“he gives him of that which is alive in him; he gives him of his joy, of his interest, of his understanding, of his knowledge, of his humor, of his sadness—of all expressions and manifestations of that which is alive in him. In thus giving of his life, he enriches the other person, he enhances the other’s sense of aliveness by enhancing his own sense of aliveness. He does not give in order to receive; giving is in itself exquisite joy. But in giving he cannot help bringing something to life in the other person, and this which is brought to life reflects back to him.”

Maybe this is why springtime birds sing so much.  They are skilled and knowing artists practicing the liveliest art.  The art of loving.  

How can you turn love into a verb?  Venus will delight in Aries until April 14th, when it will cozy up in Taurus.

Happy Astro Pondering!

Astro Art by Johhnie Day Durand

https://www.happyastropondering.com/