The Natural Soul

The natural soul sounds mystical in nature and in many ways it is. Many people go to Church, Mosque and Shul to find peace, cleanse their soul and face their personal demons past and present. And still yet others go to psychologist and those who deal with the science of the mind. Some who can not or don't know how to deal turn to drugs alcohol and other means. I have at different times done the latter of the two and blessed to have never done the former.

I still go to Shul when my job permits, but I have found after many years of searching I'm most comforted by G-d and confronted by my demons when surrounded by the beauty and deadliness of nature. Does this mean I am out dancing naked under the stars..no but if that is how He/She talks to you go for it. Just make sure you have a 8ft fence and plenty of trees.

G-d speaks to me when my mind is at it's quietest and that for me is when I am hiking,walking on the beach, listening to the rain or tending my small garden. I have walked those places many times and had many deep conversations with my self and G-d and have only recently after reading Elemental Shaman just how different each one really was.

I have sat on the beaches of Sandbridge and reveled in the beauty of the waves and joy of the laughing children, walked along First Beach and contemplated my self-worth and laughed as I suffered the heat of the sand and wondered what it took for those who walk on hot coals to not scream and run across them like a little girl as I was.

I have been in awe of the beauty of the dunes at Back Bay and confronted fears of the black waters and heights at First Landing. I have said my deepest and most sincere prayers at the Narrows , enjoyed laughter with my daughter at Northwest and lately my fears of a life unlived at The Great Dismal Swamp.

The Great Dismal Swamp's Washington Ditch is a four and a half mile hike. It's named after our first president and is lent to many mysterious stories about Lake Drummond from the Indians and others. It was also, as the story goes, where a rejected writer came to take his life.

In the beginning the walk is not so bad but as it wears on and all you see is the road in the distance unchanging, the history of Washington fades and the intrigue of the run away and freed slaves falls to the wayside, your mind begins bringing up things to pass the time and not always what you want to think about. I wonder, if this is what my life had always been straight and never changing, how could I look forward to the future I wanted. Even with the side chatter of my daughter and our stops to admire orb spiders, the thoughts did not fade.

Finally we sat, ate and enjoyed the view. I dreaded the walk back, as we moved along the path the way back was quicker but my mind wondered . I had taken detours off the straight path and at times come back but now I wanted off and to stay off. I wanted to make my own path and as I reached near the end I started doubting if I would be able to when that small voice said, "look mom we are almost there" and began telling me how the flowers changed from one side of the ditch to the other as we walked. Such a small thing that I had not noticed, then I realized months ago I had come off the straight path and was making my own. It was such a slight change that I had not noticed but that small voice did and reminded me that it was okay. Sometimes, deep in the woods and in the still of your mind when it seems that chaos reigns, the smallest angel's voice can bring you peace.

And in the words of the rejected writer who decided to live... "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.. Robert Frost

Indeed it has. Funny how the Dismal Swamp affects people.

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