Tuesday, September 3, 2013

My Friend Sally’s Greatest Teacher and Why I Believe Nature is Worth Preserving


Endurance ©Lynne Buchanan

View towards Heaven ©Lynne Buchanan

Broken Heart ©Lynne Buchanan

Sally's Tree ©Lynne Buchanan

I recently visited my friend Sally, a wonderful woman whose path I was fortunate enough to cross in Scotland and who invited me to stay with her on my way west.  While I was there, she asked me if I wanted to meet her greatest teacher.  Of course, I said yes.  We went out into the yard and she showed me this unbelievable pear tree.  She calls it Le Pere, the French word for father, because of all the wisdom it has imparted to her.  As we walked around the tree, she showed me where the tree had to be cut back after Andrew, spoke of the damage caused by Katrina, and then mentioned the devastation wrought by Isaac.  Those were just the big ones, she said.  The tree survived several other hurricanes with minimal harm.  Le Pere was one of a pair of pear trees that were on Sally’s property when she bought the house.  A Cajun man told her that both trees would die, because that’s what pear trees do when their caretakers die or move on.  In fact, one of the trees did die soon after, but Le Pere did not give up.  After Isaac, Sally thought that Le Pere was going to go too.  Then she said the tree spoke to her and asked her to clean out the rot filling the cavity that was hollowed out from all the damage.  Sally cleaned and cleaned that cavity, though she had no experience in rehabilitating trees.  The tree slowly began to revive and this year there is a lot of new growth.  Miraculously the tree still bears fruit.

As I spent time with this tree, I was so impressed with its energy and perseverance and willingness to offer its gifts of fruit to the world despite all it has suffered.  The tree was like a metaphor for the earth.  Our planet has been harmed in countless ways.  Do we just ignore what is happening and let it rot more?  Should we let the injuries fester and kill any remaining life?  Or do we step up to the call and begin working to clean out all the gunk, the dirty energy that is wreaking havoc on ecosystems and causing the waters to rise and fires to burn.  Our planet is so miraculous and there is much it can do to heal itself, if we just get out of the way and stop interfering by unnecessarily polluting it with fossil fuels, fertilizers, and other pollutants. 

When Sally worked to heal the tree, it was also healing her.  I sensed that from all the healing I received by just being in the presence of this wonderful manifestation of being.  Working with nature brings us all into greater balance.  We find our right relationship with the universe and whatever we give to the earth it gives back to us.  Please join me in honoring Le Pere by finding ways to help clean out the rot in your own backyard and ask nature what you can do to help heal within and without...


Monday, August 5, 2013

Recharging at Robinson Preserve and Why We Need to Help Step the Tide of Climate Change






Wayne Taking in the Sunset (photograph made with the iPhone and the Schneider wide angle lens) and Quirky Tree Pointing the Way, Robinson Preserve (photograph made with the Nikon D700)
© Lynne Buchanan, All Rights Reserved, Watermarked by Digimarc

These photographs were taken on a recent expedition from Robinson Preserve, a beautiful area in Manatee County where residents can launch kayaks, walk, ride bicycles, fish, and otherwise commune with the nature after a hectic day.  I was stunned to find such a beautiful and pristine setting so close to downtown Bradenton.  After paddling through areas with mangroves and birds, we reached the place where the Manatee River merges with the bay.   You can see the iconic Sunshine Skyway Bridge in one direction all the way to Ana Maria Island in the other.  It was so peaceful and quiet and the vista was so broad and expansive.  The water was very shallow though the sandbars were still submerged, so we got out and walked our boats to travel further along the coastline.  Immersed in this setting, it felt as if the whole universe was before us full of potential and devoid of problems.  I looked over at my friend Wayne in the light and watched him take it all in, recharging himself from all his cares.  It wasn't hard to figure out why he also said yes to becoming a Global Climate Reality Leader.

On the way out, I had noticed this quirky tree and was captivated by it's charming, crooked way of being, standing there above all the other trees, in such a non-ordinary way.  I didn't stop to photograph it on the way out since I had arrived late and knew we were heading to the bay, but I made a mental note of how unusual it was and thanked it for being.  On the way back to the launch, I was rewarded by this incredible view of the tree in sky just after the sun had set.  I loved how the arc of the tree seemed to carry through in the wisp of white clouds, and the way it was framed by the orange sky and blue clouds.  There was so much movement and stillness at the same time, all held together in that precious moment by the complimentary colors nature had painted across the sky.  This was the kind of scene that spoke to me.  We each had our feast and were ready to return to shore, renewed and ready to face another day.

There is a reason places like this exist and a reason they are called preserves.  Cities make conscious decisions to ensure the continued existence of green spaces and natural environments for their citizens because they are aware of how beneficial it is for people to take time out and recharge, so they can be better citizens of the planet.  As climate change is becoming more severe every day, we have to extend our thinking beyond preserving little areas of nature to preserving the whole natural world. Climate change brought about by carbon pollution and other human induced factors is threatening the earth.  The rise in sea level is an imminent threat to our beautiful coastlines in Florida and is creating a myriad of problems that will affect the entire state.  The letters so many people, even those with inland homes, have been receiving about drastic hurricane increases is evidence of this already.  Spending time in nature in my home state helps open my eyes to the value of all life, and every time I am given the opportunity to appreciate such moments I am deeply grateful.  This gratitude makes me want to help preserve what I love, so this beautiful coastline will continue to exist for years to come.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Why I Decided to Become a Climate Reality Leader


My favorite childhood story was The Story of Ferdinand about the bull in Spain who preferred to sit under the cork tree smelling flowers than fighting the other bulls.  I was drawn to the simplicity and peace of his life and his connection with nature.  One day he gets stung by a bee and begins hopping around.  Unfortunately for him, this happens exactly when the matadors, on a search for the fiercest bull in the countryside, pass by him.  Staying true to his nature, he refuses to fight when he gets to the bullring in Madrid.  Instead he smells the flowers on the women's hats.  They have no choice but to return him to the countryside, where he spends the rest of his days happily under his favorite tree.

Though I have always loved this story, I have not always possessed Ferdinand's acceptance of himself and his ability to prevent outside forces from affecting his self-image.  My shyness as a child made me feel different from the other children and, until recently, I always felt I was missing something important that everyone else had, which was confidence.  This led to a sense of unworthiness and a nagging question as to why anyone should listen to me about anything.  I lost my voice and when I lost my voice, I let go of my dreams.  I worked for other people doing jobs that didn't always matter to me just to be safe, and I forgot about Ferdinand.

When I had my three children, I remembered the importance of dreams.  I wanted them to live happily on this beautiful planet and feel free to be themselves and follow their own callings.  I read them The Story of Ferdinand and I began to remember.  I spoke up for them and in doing so I regained some of my voice.  Though their worthiness was abundantly clear to me, I still did not feel worthy.  I was not yet able to reclaim my power to manifest a better reality for myself.

When the youngest of my three children entered high school, I realized there would be a big void in my life unless I found what really made me come alive.  I started yoga teacher training to learn to shift my consciousness and find my purpose in life.  Two and a half years ago, after a weekend of yoga in Miami with John Friend during which he told us it was going to be the year we all turned off our critical voices and opened ourselves to our creative power within, I attended a photography workshop with Clyde Butcher and Jeff Ripple in Big Cypress.  They told us to walk into nature with our arms open orienting from our hearts.  We were supposed to feel our spiritual connection with nature first and then express it through our photography.  This fit with the yoga philosophy I was learning perfectly.  I immediately sensed my place as one being in the interconnected web of life, with no more or less importance.  I felt like I belonged in this world, as if I had finally come home.

As I looked through my viewfinder, I did not feel I was taking photographs or shooting anything when I pressed the button.  Nature and I were co-creating images together.  Fully immersed in my environment, I recognized the divine beauty before my eyes and eventually, I recognized I must have a piece of that divinity in me.  Nature made me whole again.  Through yoga and photography, I rediscovered the childlike joy and contentment that is experienced when we are fully present on this earth.  I was happy being like Ferdinand just smelling the flowers.

Then last summer, I signed up for John Fielder's wildflower workshop in Crested Butte, the wildflower capital of Colorado.  When I got there, I discovered there were no wildflowers.  All that was growing in the fields that are usually carpeted with wildflowers was fireweed.  Only if you hiked very high in the mountains was it possible to find any wildflowers, but not at the lower elevations the groups visit.  That same summer my beloved trees began burning in Colorado and New Mexico and the fires are common occurrences now as we saw throughout the southwest in recent months.  My heart goes out to the families of the firefighters in Arizona whose lives were lost.  To think that my nephew has become a fire fighter makes me worry for his safety in this world we live in now.

I can't sit on the sidelines doing nothing about climate change anymore.  It is no longer a question of whether my grandchildren will be able to appreciate the trees and flowers I love so much and which are so vital to our psychological health.  The natural world my children, my parents, and I inhabit is in serious danger and as Florida residents we know how real this danger is every time hurricane season begins.  My newly discovered calling is being threatened and it has taken my whole life to find.  I cannot let this happen without taking action, despite being a lifelong pacifist like Ferdinand.  When Betsey Downing, a fellow yoga teacher and mentor, suggested I join her at the Climate Reality Project training, I did not think twice.

As I move forward along my path in life, I will strive to always be mindful of ways to help save the planet.  It is important to me that my conversations about climate change be heartfelt and respectful.  My hope is to engage everyone I come in contact with in a non-divisive manner, so we can work together to save this beautiful earth, the only home we have.  I know this is what Ferdinand would do if he thought his favorite tree and flowers were in danger and he was going to lose his special place in nature.