

Fragile Flowers


Nature is my religion. It’s my one true mainstream faith as real to me as Christianity or Judaism or Islamic beliefs are to others. When I observe the silent grace of a fragile flower sprouting through a rocky surface or the comforting glow of a full moon or the unexplained joy of a setting sun I’m lifted up spiritually. These images inspire and transforms me to feel compassionately and optomistically, despite living in a material world that abuses nature’s wonders and heaps criticism on those who practice otherwise. My pilgrimmages include places like walking Mount Tamalpais with it’s overgrown redwood trees and staring at the stars on a beach shore in Ogunquit, Maine and skiing the back country of Big Sky, Montana. When I’ve sat by the ocean on a cool autumn evening staring up at the stars listening to the waves crash there’s a connection with something far greater and more powerful than sitting on cold pew in a hallow building. Why meditate in a yoga stance when the transcendent beauty of a thick jungle or spraying waterfall or even a Zen garden can provide for all the sensory overload one needs for the mind, body and soul? Even though I was raised Methodist who wouldn’t agree that the equality of nature is so much more appealing than the inclusiveness of any one organized path.

Categories: General
Sonja Stark

One Response

  1. Salena says:

    Totally Agree!