Nemophilist


Nemophilist (n.) – Origin: Greek – Definition: A haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude.

So many forests in so many countries with so many people with so little time. Park forests, mountain forests, island forests, animal forests.  I cannot say all of this better than the people I am quoting below.

“And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul.”

– John Muir

“Gold is a luxury. Trees are necessities. Man can live and thrive without gold, but we cannot survive without trees.”

– Paul Bamikole

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“I found far more answers in the woods than I ever did in the city.”

– Mary Davis

“In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.”

John Fowles

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
― Herman Hesse

forest: roth; michele; mark; sustainabilitea; becky; Mason; Eddie; paula; phillip; Ingrid; cherie; cepcarol; sandy; paul; sue; rebecca

Eudaimonia


Eudaimonia (noun) Origin: Greek | U·de·‘mOn·E·a  The contented happy state you feel when you travel.

“It isn’t what you have or who you are or where you are or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about it.”
― Dale Carnegie

When I travel, I am able to stop thinking about myself. I am able to remove myself from the daily grind.  All thoughts of work, stress, anxiety, irritations, etc. fly out the window.

I feel happy walking anonymously through cities and the countryside.  Watching people, talking to strangers, viewing normal folks doing normal things. 

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” –Mark Twain

I love imagining what they are thinking and how they got to where they are.  I love even more the realization that no matter where I am, I am no different than the people I meet are in regards to the basics of life.  

My to-do list for today:
– Count my blessings
– Practice kindness
– Let go of what I can’t control
– Listen to my heart
– Be productive yet calm
– Just breathe

These things make me happy.  These things put everything in my world back into perspective and help me balance myself. I let go of my expectations on others, but even more importantly, I let go of the expectations I have put upon myself.  Traveling is how I learn to breathe again.

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” – Anthony Bourdain

contented travelers: tgeriatrix; salwa; aletta; sustainabilitea; sue; chris; rarasaur; nancy; woollymuses; david; coreen; cauldrons

Nefelibata


Nefelibata (noun) Origin: Portuguese | ne·fe·LE·ba·ta One who lives in the clouds of their own imagination; An unconventional person.

YES!  I have always been inspired when I am on a plane and breaking through the clouds into the sunny blue sky.  Decades later, I still feel a sense of wonder that I am actually sitting in the sky.  I always choose an aisle seat because I love the freedom of standing up when I choose to and being able to move around without disturbing anyone.  However, when there is no one next to me I always move to the window for the take off and the landing.  It’s a magical view.  The turbulence through the clouds makes my stomach jump.  Not with fear or anxiety but with … I don’t even know with what. Imagination .. dreams.. wonder?  I don’t know.  I take about 50 photos and then just keep looking at them.  

I mean it’s a sense of adventure.  One day, a long time ago, someone was standing on the earth and staring at the sky.  Maybe pointing out elephants, puppies, witches, etc.  One day, a long time ago, someone had a dream, or a thought, or an idea.  Something that made them want to fly.  There are dreams about flying and about what clouds in dreams mean.

I have followed the clouds to so many great places.  I have lived in my dreams, in my head, and in my imagination.  I used to think it was just me that did this. However, I have talked to some folks who have admitted to me that they also live in their dreams.  I don’t think I will ever stop taking pictures of clouds. Don’t get me wrong.  I love the sun as much as I love clouds.  But I love them each in very different ways.  

I hope it is true that I will always feel this way about clouds. I think they will always amaze and distract me.  Guide me. Envelope me.  Push me forward.  They make me dance in the rain and chase the sun. They make me feel like I felt when I was a little girl laying down in the fresh cut grass behind my house.  They remind me of lazy summer days and crazy high energy storms.  I love clouds.

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”  ― Rabindranath Tagore

“Clouds in the sky very much resembles the thoughts in our minds! Both changes perpetually from one second to another!”  – Mehmet Murat ildan

“I’m a dreamer. I have to dream and reach for the stars, and if I miss a star then I grab a handful of clouds.”   ~Mike Tyson
For a second I was almost jealous of the clouds.”  -Kamila Shamsie

Ok.. a dreamy break.  Or a break from the dreaminess of clouds.  A bit of a nightmare cloud picture.  I am not sure if these are Parawixia Bistriata spiders, but when you are walking under them does it matter?

The Parawixia Bistriata spiders have actually created such a massive intertwined web that it appears as if they’re raining down from the sky because they’ve taken over so much of the air space and it looks as if they’re floating down. … They build these cloud-sized spiderwebs which trap prey in the air.

“When you’re a kid, you lay in the grass and watch the clouds going over, and you literally don’t have a thought in your mind. It’s purely meditation, and we lose that.”  ~ Dick Van Dyke

“It is better to have your head in the clouds, and know where you are… than to breathe the clearer atmosphere below them, and think that you are in paradise.   ~Henry David Thoreau

Behind every cloud is another cloud.”   ~-Judy Garland

“I don’t know what my formula is. I only know I like my characters to walk in clouds. I like a little bit of the fairy tale. Let others photograph the ugliness of the world. I don’t want to distress people.”  ~ Leo McCarey

“Aren’t the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton… I could just lie here all day, and watch them drift by… If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations… What do you think you see, Linus?”
“Well, those clouds up there look like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean… That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor… And that group of clouds over there gives me the impression of the stoning of Stephen… I can see the apostle Paul standing there to one side…”
“Uh huh… That’s very good… What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?”
“Well, I was going to say I saw a ducky and a horsie, but I changed my mind!”
― Charles M. Schulz, The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 5: 1959-1960

Clouds – Dreams – Immagination:  Marina; Rad; Ambevert; Marie; Suzette; Eliza; ari; Trent; themouse; GS; Chen; LeDrakeNoir; phillip; Jeremy; noriega; Opher; still; sadje; mindfills; Timothy

Komorebi


Komorebi (noun) Origin: Japanese | The sunlight that filters through the trees.

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During my time in Nepal, I was able to visit an elephant rescue sanctuary.  There were parts of this place that were stunning.  It was amazing to be so close to such massive and gentle beasts.  The surroundings were magical with the the sun lightly shining through the trees.

However, in the end, I was not in love with the place or the concept of this particular reserve. As I looked at these majestic animals, at each part of the animal, I became a little sad.  A baby separated from its mother, sad eyes, chains.  So many tourists. Myself included.

I promised myself I would not participate in this type of tour again.  I support animal rescue efforts.  However, this one left me feeling a little empty.  One day I would love to participate in a tour that allows me to visit elephants when they are roaming free and in their natural habitat.

A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.
― Tennessee Williams

The truth is I love being alive. And I love feeling free. So if I can’t have those things then I feel like a caged animal and I’d rather not be in a cage. I’d rather be dead. And it’s real simple. And I think it’s not that uncommon. – Angelina Jolie

Ava; Philosophy; Shivani; Goff; tasview; redcat; Pat; candice; Mike

Shinrin-yoku


Shinrin-yoku (noun) Origin:  Japanese | Forest bath; a visit to the forest to take in it’s atmosphere.

This is actually a form of nature therapy that is practiced in Japan ever since the 80s.

shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.. listen..

Nature is pleased with simplicity. And nature is no dummy. Isaac Newton

The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream. Jack Kerouac

Nature Therapy:  Daniel; dped; Claire; sideways; neelstoria; EC; wilderness; kim; Brad; mihran; granitestate; deniek