JOYFUL GRATITUDE #146
Last Saturday I attended a talk given by Elizabeth Gilbert with the School of Life. The ticket was a birthday present to myself, bought back in the summer and I was so excited when the big day finally came along. It’s the second time I attend one of her talks and WOW, that woman can speak! She shares her wisdom in a very accessible way (with an amazing sense of humour and without shying away from swear words) and most importantly gets her points across with incredible story-telling, the kind where you find yourself sitting on the edge of your seat, entirely focussed, waiting to hear what comes next, the type of story that sticks with you and makes you examine your life with a new lens.
She shared openly and humbly what she’s learnt in this incredible life path of writing, love, loss and dreams, and what it takes to try and be a relaxed woman in this world. The fact that she is so down-to-earth about it somehow makes my own struggle feel more acceptable. Since the talk, I’ve been paying particular attention to my priorities and boundaries, and how it really takes lots of intentional decisions (big and small) to be as aligned as possible with what I truly want and spend my energy on that, saying ‘I don’t care’ about the rest. It takes constant readjustment and I am going to do my best in the next weeks and months to practise this mindfully.
Recently on my trip in the Veluwe, I was walking in the forest, enjoying having time to observe the details of the mosses, plants and funghi of all sorts. A man of about 65 or so overtook me on the path and said hello in the polite way people do in the forest, I greeted him back before going on with taking a close-up picture of whatever moss I was busy with.
A while later, as I made my way up a small hill, surrounded by ferns, I saw the same man come back along the path towards me with a smile on his face making a gesture of success. He told me he was glad to have found me as he had spotted a big mushroom that I could photograph. I was a bit wary, but I followed him, and sure enough he pointed to a strange mushroom on the side of the path that looked like coral. I asked what type it was and he told me it was a ‘sponszwam’ (a sponge mushroom) and explained they can grow much bigger than this one.
While I took some pictures we had a little chat, each question unravelling something new. He reminisced about his childhood spent in Australia, in a small miner’s town in the 60s. He told me about taking his elderly mother back to Australia years later to visit their town and friends. He spoke about his family and about the grief at losing family members and we talked about the healing power of nature and how he loves the Veluwe and drives all the way from Amsterdam just to be able to hike there. He showed me pictures of other mushrooms on his phone and explained that because he had Parkinsons he had trouble taking photos and needed to consciously breathe and try to steady his hands. After chatting for a while, he simply said goodbye and went off on his way.
I was left standing in the quiet forest, next to the sponge mushroom, feeling positively surprised and grateful that this stranger had come specially to get me to show me this peculiar mushroom and that it had led to him sharing parts of his story with me. I was struck by the similarities with my own childhood in Australia and the incredible nature there, and the conversation reminded how fortunate I am to be in good health and to keep turning to nature for healing.