soothing-restorative sanctuaries

By Heera Alaya

January 1st, 2021

“In solitude we give passionate attention to our lives, to our memories, to the details around us.”
— Virginia Woolf, English writer

It would help if you consciously carved out time to create nourishing spaces that align with your soul’s aesthetics, soothe and comfort you, and nourish those parts that support your dignity and life source. Hush insists you hold your space—disengaging and wiping out any form of intrusive-toxic embellishments—and integrate with the beauty and purity of the natural world.

The dawn chorus almost always nudges me awake. Stepping into nature in the wee hours of the morning, when thoughts are few, makes me more than notice things—I feel life. The bare foliage—caressed by the gentle rays of light—draws me in to admire the sparkling morning dew, and the soft repositioning flowers encourage me to wonder whether the stars had played hide-and-seek at night. Nature’s elements are gentle reminders to remain childlike—imaginative, playful and curious.

Flanked by flowers, my eyes slipped in a few nourishing thoughts to start the day (in continuation with the previous night—ending with a hint of art and a touch of poetry). Soon, I am willingly distracted from reading—the soft breeze brings faint musical sounds, interjecting them with zipping bees and rustling leaves, eventually building up to comical chatter and screeching. These familiar sounds are nature’s announcement: THE SHOW IS ABOUT TO BEGIN.

A high-pitched operatic tenor initiated the performance, instructing me to look up and take note of a puffing feathered chest reminiscent of an opera singer, his bright yellow beak magnified by clear blue skies. On cue, platinum bellies powered by sunlight-filtered translucent wings flew by in a V formation. Next, a flock of creamy birds descended harmoniously, maintaining plenty of white space. So low were these creamy floating birds, it was hard to miss the awkward interruption—a squirrel stuck his face out from behind gauzy flowers, looking puzzled, and realising: “Oh-no, I am not part of this act,” quickly retrieved. As though to promptly shift my attention from this mishap, a high-pitched whistle diverted my eyes to a long-tailed bird that zipped through the sky, announcing the interlude. The performance—part opera, part ballet and part comedy—is continuous, with a rhythm, only nature and its lovely creatures exhibit. Each act was building up the anticipation—what’s next?

Turning a page proved futile. An otherwise rapid-moving mustard bee insisted on hovering around—a not particularly delighted—me. As though sensing my unease, two elegant black silhouettes glided by ever so gracefully, announcing the second half. Unexpectedly, in what appeared like charcoal tulle petticoats, blackbirds swept low over me in a semi-circle and ascended towards the sky, handing over the next act to tilted high-flying birds who performed their jet-like routine. As I watched these acts like no other—with mid-air turns and penches, the squirrel interrupted again! The squirrel scurried on a beam, stopped centre stage and furiously scratched his ear; he then stood frozen for a few seconds and darted off. I couldn’t help but chuckle—the squirrel was a reminder of how I must appear on my bad hair days—like a perplexed, scraggly-tailed squirrel! The impressive final act brought forth a multitude of movements—from beaming bobbing bunches to swarms of iridescent winged dragonflies and from a variety of colourful criss-cross zooming birds to glimmering shivering leaves.

Partaking in nature’s being—going about their day with purpose and grace—at once erases any negative feelings; instead, the effortful existence of plant and animal life evokes a deep sense of appreciation, gratitude and calm.

The drifting wafer-thin flowers, the aged terracotta, the rich soil, the trickling water and the blooming lilies all pull in your focus and make you think of the big things that matter—being in the moment, owning your individuality, patience, breathing, ageing, and how to land firmly and keep your balance. Even the white stigma inside the bougainvillaea emphasises how the smallest detail is essential to add dimension.

 As I sat in quiet contemplation, looking at the earthen water container, observing the support rope be a beautiful facet that blends with nature, a bird landed to drink water; her grey plumage juxtaposed against the pink bougainvillaea was quite the sight. The bird sat examining the water with her glistening ruby eyes; I hoped she would appreciate the soft floating flower as much as she relished the freshwater. In turn (and what a lovely surprise), the bird sprinkled me with precious life lessons—as she pushed up her pink feet, taking flight, her plumage scattered glimmering droplets, reminding me to remain uncaged and keep bright the lights in my soul.

The movements of plants and birds might be different, but in their beingness, each motion leads to the unfurling of meaningful emotions, prompting you to take action. I find it gratifying to pull out the tiniest of weeds (on a good pull day, it can be quite the pile) as much as I do weeding out poor quality people—ignorant-insignificant parasites who assault, harass, threaten, enable, blame and victim shame, attempt to dictate and silence, gossip, carry stories, pry, patronise and disrespect boundaries.

Insecure people voluntarily languish in their cowardice-corrupt dead-end narratives; your refusal to merge with their existence is met with attempts to destabilise you by harming your exposed frailties. On the other hand, secure individuals, like nature, flush you with vitality thanks to their stable inner core. And like a creeper that requires just a tad bit of support to form shape, the right people (Very few people will have your best interest in mind. The good news is you can be an individual of value to someone.) lift your spirits and encourage your transformative journey.

Like plant photosynthesis that burns at night, fueling growth and regeneration (after an injury), so must we. We aid self-healing and self-love by synthesising introspection, uplifting imagery, and positive messages in silence and solitude. Taking the cadence of my soul—that seems to wear lifetimes of wear and tear—I frequently, lovingly and proudly repair parts of me that are threadbare and parts that demand reinforcement, all the time sewing in meaningful and beautiful elements, consistently revitalising my blueprint.

At daybreak, as I sit ensconced with my reading material amid nature in its glorious shades of mints, olives and emeralds, and punctuated with hues of ochre, ecru and blush, I am reminded how hush takes the coming together of a multitude of elements—the crispness of paper; the softness of cotton; the smoothness of porcelain; the bitterness of coffee; the spirit of creatures; the hardness of wrought-iron; the grittiness of terracotta; the lushness of petals; the translucence of water; the opaqueness of concrete; the dampness of wood; the wafting fragrances; the rhythm of my heart and the wholeness of my soul.

The transparent essence of nature and its lovely creatures guide my approach to life; despite being so incredibly imperfect—with their flaky feathers or tangled tails—they are fully content in their being. Little creatures trust themselves to fly high in the sky and dart up narrow beams. Similarly, with their self-assuredness, delicate creepers crawl high to bloom gloriously, and paper-thin flowers continue to unfurl bearing the shining sun. I feel worthy of being part of their lives (nature and animals)—who naturally shape my thinking and being with their purpose and confidence—and in turn, I have learnt that for anyone to be part of my life is a privilege.

I wish you, especially sensitive-worthy souls, create your sanctuaries and recede—on an ongoing, committed basis—into solitude to soothe and restore your soul.