A Journey to the Center of the Soul

Part 5 — A Song from the Wind

As the boy wound his way around the mountains, he could hear the giants singing to him.

In the beginning, the boy found it difficult to decipher the mountain’s signs, whispers and songs. He was, after all, used to the jungle of people, and not the jungle of nature. Out there, he was one among many. Out here, he was the one who was outside of many. He did not understand the mountain’s language that the beasts and the birds seemed to be in perfect harmony with.

But then of course, every language could be learnt.

The boy meandered through the rugged pathways, in the company of silent fir trees. He lost his way a couple of times, and was frustrated that he was moving around in circles, instead of forward motions. He flopped under the shade of a tree, picking the twigs that had fallen down, carelessly flicking them around. He cursed himself for not being better prepared. The only knowledge that he had of the jungles, was that it was wild.

And the wild, was also dangerous.

Then why is your jungle not as dangerous?

The whisper was so low that, if the boy had not been mindful, he would have missed it completely, succumbing to his own storm of upsetting thoughts.

“I have grown up in my jungle. I walk its pathways and speak its language. In fact, it is not a jungle at all — it is home,” he announced to no one in particular.

Likewise. Learn the language of my home, and you will be able to find your way.

Feeling rejuvenated and excited at the prospect of getting to know how the mountain lived, the boy got up from under the foot of the fir tree, realizing that the firs were not so silent after all.

It was no easy task to learn the mountain’s language. But the more mindful the boy grew of his walks, the more he began to pick up the sounds that the mountain was making to him. And soon, he learnt how to listen to the rustle of the leaves to understand which way the wind was blowing, and with what intensity.

From the burble of streams, the boy was able to figure out the stream’s location, its width and depth, and the direction of its flow. He was even able to gain an insight into the fish that populated the streams. The boy observed predator behavior to gather knowledge on when the animals attacked or when they let lying things be. He listened to the birds that brought information on how the weather would turn. He followed the rabbits and the bears to find fruit bearing plants and trees.

There was a method to every intensity of the wind, every gurgle of the streams, every rustle of the trees, every growth of the herbs, every prowl of the animals, and every song of the birds.

The boy understood that the thick, mountainous jungle was not so wild after all.

Dear Reader,

Meandering.

It is a beautiful word that we most often don’t realize we use every day. Not verbally, but in practice.

Right from the time we are born, we are on our way, our own unique way — situations that we enter and exit, are our learning platforms. As we move through the day, we wind and twist ourselves through various situations, learning on the go through the success and failure we feel during each condition.

Our situations speak to us through the unspoken language of signs and emotions. Every day meandering helps us learn how to meander our way through the bigger day called life.

As long as we are mindful, that is.

When we become more aware of the signs around us, we will become more understanding of our own selves — of what we can, and cannot do.

Our ancestors were quite skilled with the language of nature, and like the boy in our adventure, picked up the signs and songs of the trees, the beasts and the birds. Even the wind, water, and the other elements. The ancient ones lived a peaceful, simple and mundane life.

But mundane is for the ancients. For us, millennials and our descendants, we crave excitement, interesting, and the resulting, stress. We are continuously assaulting our body and minds to the stimulation of information, technology, pollution, and drugs. Of course, we cannot read the signs.

Unless we are mindful, that is.

A few months ago, I realized that I was gaining more stress even during less taxing situations. At that point, I became mindful of my ageing, and grew more aware of the changes happening within me on account of the years I was putting on. My situations — they spoke to me, telling me to slow the hell down.

My son’s craze over the game of cricket broke itself when he began to notice, from his coach’s and teammates’ frequent frustrations, that he was a poor player. His situation was telling him that this game, was not his game. And he listened to it, through his own low-moods, and understanding of his potential. He is a happy kid now, something he would not have been if he had failed to heed the signs that were showing up during his coaching sessions.

There is a language that speaks to us beyond words, and thoughts. It is all around us, despite the harassment that is modern-life. If we become more mindful of this language, we become more mindful of ourselves. Let’s call it, the language of the Universe, the language of Nature — the language of Gods.

Here’s to learning the unspoken language of Nature!