This morning I carried my bowl of breakfast cereal (bran flakes, coconut, dried bananas) out into the garden.
‘The world’ had driven me out. Kaspa had put the radio on in the kitchen which I often enjoy in the mornings but today the beat seemed jarring, relentless. I left the shelter of the house and sat my body on a chair with a view of the pond and the bird feeders.
I wasn’t out there for long - just long enough to get to the bottom of my bowl. Not much happened. It’s Tuesday and so the truck came past to pick up our rubbish (thank you). The dogs were vigilant for a few minutes, offering a few desultory warning barks. The birds sang. I noticed the light on the hills that hugs our houses and the graveyard - that exquisite rosy red tinge that only happens at this time of day.
Now I am sat at my computer. I can see that the hills are more golden now, and the bird song is muted through my windows, but still there. I have a better view into the graveyard from up here and I pause from my writing to let my eyes rest on the graves - stone crosses, simple wooden crosses, arc top headstones. The two big standing angels are holding their usual vigil - one facing me, one with his back to me, his generous wings ready to snap open and raise him up.
As I sit here I feel as if the outside is still clinging to me, like smoke from a fire.
It helps me to open my heart to hunched, stocky Elizabeth and her old dog Scooby, as I watch them make their way along the graveyard path. It helps me praise the shining blue sky, covered in places with cloud so filmy I hardly notice it. It helps me to count a few of the Earth’s great gifts - its solidity underneath the foundations of our house, the water in my hot drink, the oxygen all these trees are exhaling into my inhales.
Only a few minutes. A few minutes is all it takes for us to open our sense-gates and welcome the Great Outside.
Love, Satya <3
A question to carry: How might you reach out a hand towards the Great Outside today?
‘Dear Beloved’ is a free newsletter that will nudge you towards love. It is written by Satya Robyn (she/her) - an IFS therapist and Buddhist minister who lives happily at the feet of the Malvern hills in the UK. She lives with her spouse Kaspa (they/them) and their two little dogs, Aiko and Ralph. Her main site is here.
For years I have had breakfast outside if at all possible and for me it’s the sound of birdsong that does it. In my old house we had hedgerows of a multitude of little birds that made me feel quite joyful. Now we live by the sea and it’s seagulls, quite different and initially jarring, but I have grown to love their cries and can now tune into them when I’m inside too.
Adored this Satya:
"A few minutes is all it takes for us to open our sense-gates and welcome the Great Outside."