I met a leaf at Nano’s Place

“You are not too old and it is not too late to dive into your increasing depths where life calmly gives out it’s own secret..

- Rumi

Illustration by Marty Molinari

My mindfulness and self-compassion practice has been my mainstay for many years. Mindfulness has allowed me great insight to my inner machinations and self-compassion has helped me to hold it. It has also brought me into nature in a way I never knew before. I wrote this piece after a self-compassion retreat in Nano Nagle’s Birthplace where the breathtaking scenery provides the perfect backdrop to spend time in contemplation with nature.

“It was 9.50 on a stunning November morning. We had just finished breakfast and I had ten minutes to rummage in the outdoors. I had found such treasures on my first morning's outing the previous day that I was open and eager. The morning before at around the same time I had stumbled upon a lawn full of sparkling diamonds sitting lightly but snugly on the grass. They all twinkled at me. I was bedazzled by the beauty of the dew.

As my footsteps crunched on the stone path leading up behind our meditation room I heard rain. I was so disappointed to hear the all too familiar pitter-patter of raindrops. How could it have come down on such a bright and sunny morning? I stood still to listen and without the noise of the stones underfoot there could be do doubting the rain. I held my hands out palms upwards to feel it but there were no drops. I sharpened my ears and realised that the sound was coming from the leaves falling from the tall tress just over to my left. They pitter-pattered off, away from their still alive family members and friends on the branches of their own and neighbouring trees, as they came tumbling down to land ever so gently and gracefully onto the ground. I stood there just listening to this amazing sound for a few minutes. It was remarkable how many leaves were falling and the noise that they made as they fell.

I crunched on further up to the back boundary of the property which was lined with ivy trees growing up against the wall. As I walked the path I came across a little tiny ivy leaf suspended mid-air just above eye level. It was there right in front of me in my path. It was quite simply just hanging in mid air in front of me. I was intrigued. Close investigation revealed its practically secret source of suspension - a silver thread so fine that it could only be seen at an angle and with the benefit of the sun shining on it. I marveled at it and eventually had to leave it to be on time for my meditation. I vowed to return as soon as possible to see how it was doing. At lunchtime I rushed back to find it there still hanging in the sunshine. I wondered at it once more and passed gingerly by it by on my walk. I had just come out of a difficult meditation which had brought up lots of emotion for me and also some great clarity but not an easy clarity. I found myself relating to the leaf this time. I likewise felt I was hanging on a thread of my own. Strangely, I got some solace from this tiny little leaf. Its resilience amazed me. I walked on and found that my path led to a circuit around the retreat centre. On my way I met some of my fellow mindful spirits coming in their slow meditative pace toward me traveling in the opposite direction. I feared for my leaf friend. I was sure all this human traffic would definitely lead to my leaf's end.

Our next outdoor session was some 2 hours later. It was a walking meditation. I headed straight for my new friend (almost too hastily given our supposed mindful movement). I couldn't believe my eyes to see it still there exactly as before. I was absolutely overjoyed. I used it as my marker for my turning point on my walking meditation. I had used leaves as markers on all my other walking meditations but they had all been on the ground. This overhanging one was extra special. I walked towards it, turned and walked back. On my second turn around it was gone. I searched around almost frantically, so disappointed that it had fallen when my back was to it. Then I saw it - there it was - in the very same spot. I was delighted. I slowly paced to my turning point and when I turned again and looked up it was gone. I did not doubt it this time. I knew that it had fallen at last. I searched the ground but I could not distinguish it from its many ancestors lying under it and beside it. What had happened I wondered? Had it finally let go or had its thread snapped. It now lay in its final resting place. I felt a sense of sadness but also some relief for it that it had fallen. It was in the nature of things, the natural cycle of life. Then I realised that my thread too was in the nature of things. I had met what was there face to face and I could let it go or I could wait for my thread to snap. I had been asking for peace in my self-compassion and loving-kindness meditations over the past two days and there it was!

I reluctantly left my sanctuary at Nano Nagle’s Birthplace and returned home hoping to hold some of what I had found there. I slept the most peaceful Sunday night’s sleep I had for some time and the wonder of it all is that the very next morning I found that we had our very own twinkling diamonds peeking out at me from the grass in our garden”.

In my work as a Parent & Relationship Mentor I regularly speak of and encourage mindfulness and self-compassion. As individuals and particularly as parents we can give oursleves such a hard time. That voice in our head can have us riddled with guilt and shame in jig-time. Mindfulness helps us to recognise and befriend that voice in our head and self-compassion helps us to hold it with love and kindness.