A lesson in patience

It’s been almost a week since we returned to the property. And already, Mother Nature has provided us lessons in patience.

It was after 8pm when we finally arrived at the camper after the long drive from Toronto. And while we were happy to be back, there are always things which hamper a smooth transition. That night, it was the waning light, and the sudden slew of unpacking items from the truck I to the camper which, after 7 months unattended, certainly needed a clean.

Tired as we were, we completed the essentials, before finally heading to bed. A few hours into sleep, a heavy thunderstorm shook the forest, and us, awake. It’s a new thing for Remy to be scared of thunderstorms, and this one was particularly harsh.  He was pacing, and would just settle before another rumble of thunder would have him anxiously pacing again. It was a few hours before he settled back to sleep.

I once heard the phrase “life is what happens when you’re expecting something else”. Mother nature had plans for our first few days back that we hadn’t expected. A few endless feeling days of rain. This prevented us from doing much of our intended damage control and clean up.

As the rainy days dragged on, we were reminded that the forest, nature and simply being here go at their own pace. And that, as humans, we tend to put unnecessary pressure on ourselves with a schedule in our heads.

Both Sandy and I have been guilty of this. The feeling that we have to accomplish something in a certain time frame. That there’s a deadline for everything. That other people’s expectations of what we do with our time must be met.

Nature teaches you patience.

For an outsider, our progress here may seem slow. There are days where we are able to rapidly move through a large number of tasks, and days where nothing gets accomplished or completed.

What being out here has taught us is patience. But it has also taught us that the only people we are accountable to is ourselves. The realisation that we need to sometimes force ourselves to step back, and appreciate our surroundings, instead of feeling forced to accomplish a task.

The rainy days are days filled with talking, cleaning ones mind of thoughts and feelings we all bottle up. Communication with each other that is deep and honest. These are not always conversations that we would share with anyone else, but perspectives we share between the two of us. Mother nature provides the down time to facilitate these discussions.

And after the rain, when the sun breaks through the trees, the splendor of nature is more clearly revealed. The robins start exploring again, and rain drops, like a blanket of sequins on every plant, sparkle and shimmer in the beams of sunlight. The Forest awakens refreshed from it’s shower, and it’s residents return to their foraging, exploring and routines.

And even in the sunny days when we have a never ending list of tasks to complete, we now take the time to admire the forest. We explore it’s abundance. We appreciate it’s shade, and the peace it brings. Most importantly, listen to its message. It says “Nothing in nature rushes, yet everything gets done”.

It’s something we’re learning every single day.