This article was written by a student writer from MSU’s Her Campus Chapter.
There is a meditative practice that I do on a daily basis that has started to feel too much like a ritual. Meditation can help you feel more connected to yourself and the space around you.
Mary Oliver’s Upstream is a collection of essays that explores the connections between nature, writing, and existence. This collection resonates deeply with me, as I recognize walking and writing as forms of meditation. When I engage in these practices, I start within my body and expand outward until I am all and nothing. There is no distinction between where I end and the earth begins. Time does not destroy these spaces. My consciousness depends on myself and the environment that surrounds me. There are no clock hands to guide my actions. There are no clocks here. The only sounds are the heartbeat, the murmuring of the river, and the rustling of leaves.
As you walk under the canopy of leaves, you realize how small you are in the lush majesty of the earth. That realization brings me peace. I am among the grooved bark, the ripples of the wind, and the tiny insects. You don’t need to know your name. The earth echoes it to me.
There is a ritual in which dried leaves and petals are soaked in boiling water. Wait patiently for the water in the kettle to boil, then put the mesh-wrapped leaves into the cup. I roll a generous spoonful of honey into me. When you inhale, there is a sense of sweetness and security in its warmth. I drink the leaves without taking them out, and I find the bitterness comforting.
