Reflection for November

Nature’s Generosity, Great-Fullness, and Giving Back

Fall is the great giver. As summer softens and light lessens, she arrives smiling with wide-open arms, bestowing her generous gifts here, there and everywhere: in fields and forests, in gardens and groves, in mudflats, moors, and mountains. This is the season of plenty – of flavorful fruit, vibrant veggies, and sustaining seeds. Trees and bushes, once gorgeous in green, now sport spectacular shades of gold, crimson and russet in their final fling before the barrenness of winter.  Mushrooms multiply, emerging overnight in leaf litter, damp grass, and dead and decaying logs. Gigantic sunflowers stand like golden suns against the fading light, reminding me of summer’s warmth. And cool, crisp air wafts fragrances of appetizing apples, aromas of earth, and smells of woodsmoke to my nostrils. In Fall, Earth gives of herself with wild abandon.
 
In the Pacific Northwest, this generosity is perhaps most evident in salmon’s homecoming. In September and October, the rivers and streams in Cascadia sometimes shimmer with their upstream journey. After years living in the saltwater ocean, these iconic beings journey back to their freshwater spawning grounds to ensure the future of their kind. And then they spawn and die – giving their bodies back to the very lands and the waters where they were created. In doing so, they feed bears, eagles, otters, coyotes, seagulls and many other beings - feeding even the forests themselves as their spent bodies disintegrate and decay. Salmon’s gift of its own flesh and bones is perhaps the ultimate testament to generosity: it dies so others can live.
 
The forests also speak of generosity. The bigleaf maples, dramatically draped with mosses, lichens and ferns, drop their large, golden leaves into thick carpets on the forest floor. The rotting leaves become food for fungi, shelter for countless creatures, and nutrients for the soil. Even in decay, the forest gives itself away to nourish and protect life.
 
Meanwhile, on the coasts and estuaries, soft rains swell tidal wetlands, creating much-needed feeding grounds for migratory birds. Flocks of sand pipers, plovers, and sanderlings fill the skies, nourished by the generosity of the waters. And in scrublands and thickets, berries and nuts ripen and release, feeding mice, squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, raccoons, and other creatures, as they prepare for the long winter ahead. Even the wind seems to participate in nature’s generosity, scattering seeds far and wide, ensuring that the promise of new life is embedded in the Earth.
 
Fall is the most giving of seasons. She is never miserly or stingy, never clinging to what can be released and given away. Nothing is hoarded. Nothing is withheld. Nothing is retained in this season of harvest. It is all joyously let go. At this time of year, the Earth seems to say: “I offer myself freely. Take whatever you need, for life is abundant”.
 
The Earth knows that nature’s generosity is not a deprivation or a loss. Rather, it is a sacred service, a devoted offering, a wondrous way of paying it forwards to the next generation.
 
Yet how often do we humans believe that generosity depletes the giver, leaving them with less? That if I give you something, I won’t have enough? Or that you should give me something in return? But is life only about transactions, credits and debits, and quid-pro-quos? Fall’s limitless gifts challenge these scarcity-based beliefs and reveal that when open our hearts and truly let go, the giver and the receiver can both receive benefits.
 
There is something profoundly humbling and deeply inspiring about generosity. Humbling because it reminds us of our shared humanity and interdependence. Fostering a sense of connection and relationship, generosity puts our attention on others and diminishes our self-interest. And it is inspiring because it can lift our spirits and motivate us to give. When we are generous, we can feel virtuous, ennobled and good about ourselves.
 
But perhaps most of all, generosity can open and soften our hearts. When a closed or hardened heart is touched by another’s generosity, it naturally swells with gratitude and becomes great-full. Full of greatness. Full of grandness. And full of grace. Arising naturally and without forethought, great-fullness is the human heart’s instinctive response to generosity, flowing beyond its boundaries and encompassing not only the giver, but often everyone and everything around it.    
 
So when we are great-full, we can reap many fruits. Perhaps great-fullness is itself a kind of harvest.  The nourishment offered by the Earth can fill our hearts, as well as our bellies, transforming us into givers – generous with love, radiant with kindness, and abundant with praise.
 
In this way, nature’s generosity in Fall can be a teaching. Reminding us of our dependence on the Earth, it teaches us the wisdom of great-fullness and of giving our own lives to the future. Rather than trying to possess or hold onto the gifts we have been given, Fall invites us to freely pass them forwards. To live in this season is to be invited into life’s endless flow: to give, to receive, to give again, and to trust that in this ongoing cycle, life will continue.
 
In this season of shortening days and lengthening shadows, let us remember to pause, notice, and receive nature’s gifts. And then let us be great-full: when we peel an apple, when we sweep a drift of leaves, when we light a candle at dusk. Let each moment become a sacrament, a celebration, a communion in which we express our great-fullness by returning it all back to the future.

My November Offerings

Tuesday, November 4 from 3:00 - 4:30 pm In Person at Healing Circles Langley 
Re-connecting with Earth: A Circle of Renewal & Belonging 
Part Four of a Four-Part Circle
For more information and registration go here.

Thursday, November 13 from 5:00 - 6:15 pm on Zoom 
Mindfulness Meditation & More
Meditation and sharing

Friday, November 21 7:00 pm - 5:30 pm Sunday, November 23 on Zoom
Big Bear Retreat Center, CA
Taking a Larger Perspective in These Transition Times
Online retreat co-taught with Ayya Santacitta
More information and registration here

Thursday, December 11, 5:00 - 6:15 pm on Zoom 
Mindfulness Meditation & More
Meditation and sharing