My first physical Love was planet Earth.
As a child, I used to spend hours in my guinep tree, or in other parts of my family’s yard, listening to the leaves celebrate cool breezes.
I spent countless afternoons running and laughing in the rain and racing paper boats through rainstorms. I moved through blissful moments watching clouds roll by as I made shadow shapes within them. I passed afternoons searching for wild plants to pretend-cook with, and I have devoted many nights to staring at (and walking with) the moon as it gradually grew larger and smaller each month in the peaceful night sky.
I have danced barefoot on solid ground while singing songs of Love and praise to God and Jesus (who has always been a symbolic hero of mine because of what he represented in the hearts and minds of his followers, although I do not identify as Christian). And when I came to America after Loving the Earth in the Caribbean, this Love transformed into catching ladybugs and learning the smells of the wild foliage in my neighbor’s yard if I was not telling stories to friends, siblings, and cousins under illuminated city skies in the same way that I had done on quiet Sunday afternoons in my yard in Kingston, Jamaica.
The Earth and I are connected. We are one and bonded together in Love. So much so that when I drive or walk through mountains and landscapes, I feel the space in my body; my being expands to vast scales to embrace the planet around me fully.
When I am alone in nature, I don’t just observe the weather or objectively see open natural landscapes with my eyes, I become a part of them. Every cell in my body, every fiber of my being, comes alive, charged with ecstatic orgasmic* bliss at the feeling of the sun on my skin or the sparkle of light glistening on snow, I am transformed and electrified when caressed by wind moving warm or cool air, clouds, dust, leaves, or anything else across open expanses or around my physical body. I shake with thunder and magnetize with lightning, and my heart is filled with joy at the presence of wildflowers and Earth’s many creatures.
I have love affairs with natural places, and when I fall in love I do so completely.
I used to wonder if I was alone in this experience until I heard an interview with a person who described a similar experience when wandering through the Canadian wild-scape.
Different from immersion during writing, or even immersion in music, and closer to immersion in dance, but not quite the same as being connected with the Source itself (which has no comparison), is the feeling of being completely connected with the Earth.
When this type of merging occurs, everything else falls away, but everything becomes clear simultaneously, and the sense of being separate from the object that I merge with vanishes.
This is one of the closest tangible descriptions that some of you may be able to relate to when trying to grasp the details of what Patanjali describes in Sutra 41 when he states that “[j]ust as the naturally pure crystal assumes shapes and colors of objects placed near it, so the yogi’s mind, with its totally weakened modifications, becomes clear and balanced and attains the state devoid of differentiation between knower, knowable and knowledge.”
Beyond this tangible description of my described relatable felt (or feelable) experience above, however, is the experience of merging with the object/focus of concentration in meditation itself (on a much more complete and subtle level) of which the “culmination [highest point]…is samadhi.”