“I feel that my boat has bumped, there at the bottom, into something big. And nothing happens! Nothing… Quiet… Waves… Nothing happens? Or has everything happened, and we are already at rest, in something new?”- Juan Ramon Jimenez
There is a time for everything. According to the much-loved band Mumford and Sons, a time to sing, a time to shine, a time to leave, a time to stay, a time to cry, a time to love and a time to live. And if they’re saying it, then it must be so.
Now, at Londolozi, it seems the time is for abundance. We are literally watching the bush come to life.
The Mopane Pomegranates are bursting with sunshine-yellow flowers and Apple leaf trees are dusting the ground with their delicate purple blossoms that are begging to have makeshift snow angels made in them.
Every tree is shooting its first tiny leaves of the season. Fresh green grass is peaking its head above ground. Dung beetles, snakes, tortoises and a myriad of other tiny creatures are starting to emerge from their aestivation spots. The sense of promise and renewal is palpable.
I have been reading the work of Sharon Blackie, whose writing falls in the realm of psychology, mythology and ecology. She is a woman deeply connected to a sense of place. She believes that only when we reconnect with the land, will we be able to understand ourselves again and when this happens, we’ll remember our deep belonging to this planet.
Londolozi gives me that sense of place and deep belonging to this land and so when I look at this season, it calls me to ask myself what Nature’s masterful intelligence might be reminding us about our own lives.
To me it says, “trust in the cycles of life”. We are not separate from Nature and just as she has periods of dormancy or barrenness, so do we. And sometimes just the smallest shower of rain or touch of sunlight can trigger a bout of growth that causes the landscape of life to regain its lusciousness. Just take last year’s video on the drought as an example.
Even within a flourishing period, there are layers of death and re-birth. The Sjambok pod trees recently dropped their gorgeous yellow flowers, only to be followed by a shock of luminous green leaves. Old cavities bored into trees have become homes to hopeful nesting birds. Fallen leaf matter has enriched the soil that new life now emerges from.
And even as we look to the sky, we see cycles within cycles; mirroring the way that every process in our life moves at different speeds. The full moon lost its weight and appears as just a sliver of a smile at the moment. As it waxes though, it will once again reach its full potential before beginning its descent to newness. What follows is another fresh start.
Where in your life are things flourishing and coming to life? Where may a blossoming be coming to an end and yet the summer season still only beginning? What needs water? What needs sunlight? And if there are places where you have reached your full potential, what new life would you like to create?
At Londolozi, we are revelling in the miraculous gifts of summer but I invite you to tune into your own rhythms and seasons as well as those of the planet. Because as Sharon Blackie says, “only then can we truly become creatures of this Earth; only then can we begin to feel a sense of belonging to it.”