One day, I went for a walk on the city streets. Life seemed to stretch out on that sunny afternoon. I was already far from home when heard the sound of children in the distance. The uproar increased as I approached a kindergarten yard. Children screamed as they moved frantically, in an incessant up and down, in and out of a colorful plastic structure, in the shape of a castle, installed on the floor entirely covered by a carpet of artificial green grass.

In front of the courtyard, there was a low wall, topped by an insurmountable grid that limited this kingdom averse to earth and plants. On this threshold of life, two boys played outside the restlessness of the group, in silence, centered on themselves and in admirable collaboration.

On the other side of the sidewalk, a pine tree rose, which, in maternal complicity, threw some of its needles within the reach of the two boys, piquing their curiosity. The two little ones collected them and disposed them on the wall in a carefully elaborated arrangement, following only the laws of their imagination.

Without noticing me, I paused for a moment, tender, watching them. “My heroes,” I murmured softly, “my two little heroes …”

Distant, very distant from there, children of traditional peoples, when asked to draw images that represent Nature, often draw their hand, foot or mother, revealing to the world their feeling of belonging, integration and identification with the one they perceive to be their mother too.

Tribal societies that still have at their core the connection with the natural environment in which they live, preserve their rites of passage, through which they celebrate the introduction of young people into adult life, by the extension of their parental ties and recognition of Nature as their mother and the Heavens, as their father. Their lives expand, take on a new dimension. Their horizons widen in an increasing autonomy that develops without traumatic splits or solutions of continuity, since they are no longer children only of their biological parents, but of Nature and Heavens, whom they love, honor and identify with as well.

And it is in this meeting of Mother Nature and Heavenly Father, of Gaia and the Great Spirit, that the most sacred nuptials take place and the Inner Child is reborn unified in its humanity and divinity.

Children feel welcomed by Nature, this Great Mother, whose irresistible invitation leads them to explore her and discover her endless secrets, mysteries and treasures. In her complex interconnections, she talks to them about collaboration and proposes challenges that instigate the children’s curiosity, inventiveness and imagination, mirroring their intelligence, their sleeping wisdom.

In the comfort of her lap, children awaken their senses and subtle sensibility, nurture their fantasy, their innate poetic sense and their love in the love that is life itself that animates everything.

In the generosity of her breast, the child experiences the power of regeneration and the eternal rebirth, and learns to trust in the benevolence that permeates the abundance of his Mother, the nectar of all creation.

We are not just part of Nature, we are her children — we are Nature. We are that matter, that dense energy that shapes things in this created Universe. We are the light — particle and wave —, we are the music, the verb, the primordial sound. We are the Spirit that becomes presence, time, body. And, as we listen to our bodies, we hear the very sound of creation.

The child, upon discovering the sensations, forms and movements of his body, performs the essential anchoring of the Spirit that IS. His conscience awakens in this realization that is renewed every moment, in its own rituals, evolves and extends beyond his body, his parents, finding his reflection in Mother Nature and Humanity.

Almost four years have passed since that afternoon when I met the two boys and I now realize that we are that Child Spirit on his evolutionary human journey to expand his own consciousness. I realize that anchoring in our body, in Nature, is the foundation of our balance, health and self-realization. The unification of our Inner Child happens in the love of ourselves, which is his intimate essence, and it is our entire responsibility to realize it, creating a scenario where we are able to look and mirror with zeal, compassion and benevolence the children we generate and welcome in the gardens of our Gaia family.

In honor of my two little heroes.

Maristela Rohenkohl

April 12, 2021.

Image: Nautilus of Life, by Josephine Wall

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