There is a hunger in my belly. A gnawing rumble. An emptiness. A hollow entreaty to be satiated. It is not food I crave. I am lucky there, food aplenty in my fridge, or delivered to my door. No, it is a deeper yearning, a desire to be fed, to suckle and be nurtured and be nourished by life itself.
I savour the sweet spots of my existence, like a nectar, a mystical elixir that sits precious in this challenging world. Those moments that are like gold. Framed in a timeless shadow of a memory, that I wear like diamonds around my neck. Time with my loved ones, sunrise over a frosty field, the hug of friends and community, a prayer shared around a fire, a good book under the duvet, lunch club, the weight of a purring cat on my chest, caravan adventures, ceremony, pilgrimage, cold healing springs, a buzzard overhead, an out-of-the-blue email from a friend, belly laughs; these gems are sustenance to my soul. I harvest these moments greedily and display them in the scrap book of my mind.
And what warms your heart and nourishes your spirit when the nights are long and dark and quiet? What brings a smile to your face, and lifts your spirits? Do you make time to feed that empty place within that makes you sad, or makes you ponder the meaning of it all? What makes your heart sing? What brings a smile to your face? Can you taste Joy? Life can become swallowed beneath a regime of duties and do’s, and don’ts, and oughts, and musts, and expectations, and habits, and lists, and distractions until we are so caught up in the wheel of it all, the relentless frenzy of the everyday, the white noise of our existence that we have forgotten why we are here at all. That life is more than merely something to be ‘got through’, it is a gift, even if it sometimes feels like a relentless pass-the-parcel with nothing but forfeits beneath every layer, there is a prize awaiting you at the centre. It is up to us to make a life a work of art. And it is not about the applause or the reward, but about the effort you put in, the journey you undertake, and the beauty you seek to manifest. Seeds sown reap their own reward. It is not about success or failure, it lies simply in the act of having a go. And of the keeping going – the keep on keepin’ on when the road gets tough. If you do not make the effort to prospect for gold then you are unlikely to find it. If you do not believe that it may lie hidden beneath the dirt, then for you it will never exist.
It now comes as no surprise to me that against the backdrop of all that currently challenges me, life can taste sweeter than ever. And I don’t say this with any sense of irony. Not every day nor every moment, but here and there, like a shooting star that illuminates the night sky or the glory of a rainbow before it fades. Small nuggets of gold reveal themselves to me, glinting beneath the water on the muddy river bed. And in those moments I am rich. Where once life was something I took for granted, about which I was at times cavalier, not mindful of its divine preciousness, and even perhaps had an ambivalence towards. Now I have been taught the lesson of humility and gratitude. Illness has given me the eyes to see. I marvel at my prior capacity for blindness, where the spotlight of attention illuminated those things that aroused fear or lack, and the blessings in my life hid themselves in the shade.
And so I return to the question of nourishment. How do we nourish ourselves? Why do we need to nourish ourselves. As humans the first nourishment we receive originates from the mother, first from within the womb, and then for most of us at her breast, where all the nutrients we require to develop, grow and remain healthy in the physical sense are provided and tailored to our needs. But nourishment comes to us in more than just nutritional form, if we are lucky, our mother, our parents, our wider community nourish us on an emotional, psychological, intellectual, creative and spiritual plane. And so we develop a robustness and resilience to help us negotiate whatever comes our way. But what if we are mal-nourished? Like a diet lacking in nutrients and overloading on sugar and processed foods leads to weakness to sickness, so too does a life poor in the things that feed the soul. So how do you nourish your soul? Do you remember to make time for those things that bring a smile to your face, a glow, a sense of joy and contentment, an appreciation of the here and now, when the mind is not caught up in the worries of yesterday or worrying about tomorrow and what is yet to come?
Have we mistaken distraction for relaxation, for quality time? A glass or two of wine, hours lost on social media: comparing, competing and validating our existance, TV, magazines, games, drugs legal and illegal – junk food for the soul – all help us to forget and numb ourselves from what is hard to endure.
But don’t get lost in getting lost. Cherish the time you have. Give yourself permission to savour what is sweet and discard what doesn’t serve. To nourish and nurture yourself and what is precious to you is vital to your wellbeing. It reminds you that you are worth it. That you matter. That you are worthy. That you deserve life. It feeds your self-esteem, which feeds confidence, which fosters your sense of being loved. And when we feel loved, and worthy, and confident we can become proud of who we are, we bring ourselves back into balance and feel less inclined to compete, to compare, to judge, to exclude, to be in conflict – both with ourselves and others. To nourish oneself means that we are less likely to need to seek nourishment or approval or permission from elsewhere: from another person, a habit or society at large. Instead, perhaps discontent, anger, fear, boredom, helplessness, sadness, rage, guilt, resentment, blame, meaninglessness could be replaced by a meaningful sensation of contentment, purpose, satisfaction and inspiration.
I am hungry. My spirit is craving to be fed. A walk in nature is the meal I desire. Alone in the woods where the breeze blows new strength into my being, where the stream washes away my worries, where I sit upon the wet earth and feel her heartbeat, my back against a tree for support, my fingers buried in the damp, green mossy carpet. Plugging into the pulse of life. Interconnection. Inspiration. Belonging. Where before and after dissolve into here and now, where my heart calms, where beneath a rock or in the whisper of the leaves I find restoration and rejuvenation, and I look up not down, forward not back, and I breathe in the beauty of life. A true feast for the soul.
Trouble is, I tripped over some washing (I know, ridiculous, and painful!) and have been forced to slow down, to stop, confined to the static safety of the sofa out of harm’s way for a few weeks. Good in the sense that I have no alternative but to get on with writing my book, but oh the yearning for the sweet nourishment of my heart and soul. No matter, the memory and promise of nature’s caress inspire me daily, she is going nowhere. And neither am I.
Cherish the sweet spots. Nourish your soul. Bon Appetit! Oh and look out for the washing!