When did we last consider wild berries?
On a visit to a new trail I've never been before, I begin seeing them stretch and grow, exploding with potential along the trailside. Instantly, I'm taken back to my earliest memories in the Appalachian Mountains... picking wild, sticky fruit and eating it as fast as my chubby little fingers would allow; deep purple juice streaking across my mouth and staining my fingernails for days.
I'd end up with as many scratches as berries in my basket; those thorny, possessive bushes offering scant protection from my zealous foraging. Some were ripe and perfect to pick; others still in process. I focused on those ready for the taking, instead of longing for the rest to hurry up.
Unlike now. I want them to be ripe... now.
I laugh when it hits me: many of us have lost the art of allowing time for ripening. If it takes too long or we're uncomfortable with the emotional space we're in, we impatiently want to move ahead and skip the stages of becoming.
I've been thinking about stages a lot lately while reading depth psychologist Bill Plotkin's, Nature and the Human Soul. Founder of the Animas Institute, Plotkin speaks to the need of returning to a eco-centric society (as opposed to our ego-centric society), if we are to heal our greatest environmental challenges. He proposes eight stages of development to get us there, with hints on where many of us get stuck and how we can regain the lessons. The first stage urges parents to allow their child untethered exploration in nature-- to get muddy, to dance in the rain, to hold bugs and eat plants and sleep under the stars. He calls this embracing our natural 'Wild Self' or 'Indigenous Self.'
Encourage and celebrate her natural curiosity, her dogged and multi-sensory exploration of everything in her world indoors and out, the pleasure she takes in her own flesh, her unrestrained laughter, her full-bodied emotionality, her unfettered sensuality (including her love of mud and rain), and her thrill in wild movement.
In this moment, I understand what he says is true. Those early encounters shaped my love of nature; from revering the majesty of Redwoods, to soaking in the smell of salty sea air, to marveling at the beauty of poppies by the roadside. They also bring my awareness back to one fact: everything takes time to ripen. It's just not time to pick the berries yet.
There's a quote I love, attributed to the Arapaho Native American tribe:
"All plants are our brothers and sisters. They talk to us and if we listen, we can hear them."
So today I consider the wild berry as it will slowly deepen into various shades... who knows, maybe one or two or a dozen hues of red and purplish-black... before it arises into fullness.
