Moments
- Sarah-Jane Cobley
- Jan 11, 2024
- 3 min read
In Nature, In Haiku, In Connection
This morning I began Beth Kempton’s Winter Writing Sanctuary. Two poems inspired by nature invoked a deepening curiosity that somehow drew out my experience of witnessing grief, pure and true. It became a reflection of my empathy; some level of understanding, and yet of course, relates more to my own personal experience and imaginations.
Yet we are all human and share so much on this magical Earth we call home.
We all know love; we all know pain.
Moments in Nature
One big solace of mine has always been nature, my attention is naturally drawn to it, and I also intentionally draw my attention to it knowing the medicine in offers. I open my eyes and witness the movement in the stillness, the sweet sounds in the silence, and it reminds me that there is always some comfort to be discovered within the discomfort.
As a practice, I go outdoors, and just as a meditator returns and re-turns their attention back to a focal point, I return my attention to nature. Especially when my mind is cycling and I need some grounding.
I stop and stare. Follow a flutter, a soar, a ray of light, rush of water or chirrup. A glimmer, a spark, a dance of some kind. Then like the bird I am lifted, like the wind I am moved. I am warmed by such raw beauty, and deep appreciation washes over me, touching every corner of my being.
I drink in lungful’s of this moment and savour the crisp taste of the air after it’s danced its way to me across trees, mosses and stones. Damp earth always has the power to lift my soul and now I know I am connected. I’ve settled back into right relationship, back into my place on earth, my animal instinct tells me so. I am home.
Moments in Haiku
Interestingly, my 14-year-old son walked in just as I set upon a task of writing my first haiku. I only know of this type of Japanese poetry after my son spent some time playing with it in his Steiner home-ed group. He immediately engaged giving me some tips and telling some stories of his own adventures in writing haiku. Right away I was inspired so I walked over to look out the big window of his Nanna’s house overlooking the Teignmouth estuary.
It was then I understood what it is to write a haiku, and why they are considered heart medicine. It opened me up to what was right there in front of me.
Magpie in palm tree, feasting on round yellow fruits, flight waving through air.
It captures moments, takes me out of my own experience, and yet simplifies and deepens it. Descriptive detail of exactly what’s before my eyes, reminding me again that nature always has the answers if we care to look.

Daily Medicine
I can well believe in the medicine of writing a daily haiku. It’s like keeping an almanac, but with an added sprinkling of beauty from the eye of the beholder. Personal, from a moment unique to them, yet speaks volumes and has the power to connect. Connect to nature, connect to others, connect to ourselves.
From now on I plan to take a haiku notebook with me in my pocket whenever I go outdoors. To get outdoors more, and to look to nature to witness more moments of beauty, peace and inspiration.
This is something I’ve always naturally done, yet somehow have recently lost track.
I am amazed at how turning our attention outwards influences our inner experience and how our inner experience influences how we experience the world outside of us. It is touching, it is personal, and it is expansive. It’s a two-way relationship.
We are so very connected. In nature I am myself. In nature I feel at home.
Daily Connection
As with meditation, time spent daily to connect with the practice helps us develop and deepen. It becomes more easeful, more fruitful and more likely. Its gifts keep on giving as the peace and appreciation it elicits infiltrates into all areas of our lives. To my experience, more nature equals more health, more healing, and more hope.
Opening our eyes to the nature outside of us, opens our eyes to the nature within us.
Moments imprint on our hearts most strongly when we are present. Intentionally noticing nature as a regular practice strengthens our ability to be present, and this ability is transferable to our everyday life so that we experience many more precious moments in the richness of all they have to offer.




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