Orgasmic nature

Entering a small patch of forest, I asked the island spirit to walk with me today. We were old friends for I had felt its greeting each time I stepped on the shore. It was a sunny, quiet day and I had been longing for company. The time was now.

As I expanded my consciousness to touch the wider field of nature, its presence grew more palpable as if the air itself was charging around me. Eventually I could feel it vibrate in each blade of grass I stepped on. For awhile we walked in companionable silence while I submerged my senses to the open awareness, humble for being invited in such manner.

A throng of small birds began the song of the island, their wings making tiny rattles through the nearby bushes. Deeper in the forest, an owl hooted. For a moment I stopped to listen for the sounds and noticed a butterfly exploring the path with me, first gently examining the work of the bees on a patch of flowers, then moving on to the distance. A large ivory snail was making slow effort to cross my path and I carefully stepped around it.

A surge of emotion welled in the central area of my chest. ‘I am here,’  I whispered in my mind. ‘I love you.’

A feeling of elation rushed through me and my pace quickened into the forest. At that moment I knew that the only way to truly explore the island’s nature was to merge with it, to become part of it. So I did.

As I gave myself over to that flow, the island spirit rejoiced, finding my presence delightful and exciting as a child who had just received a gift and could comfortably expect for another.

My body nearly glided through the narrow strip of trees as I danced to the ceaseless song of the birds and buzzing insects. Spiders had hung their nets across the paths to prey on unsuspecting mosquitoes. The further I went, the more of the webs got stuck on my hair, face and chest area. As I raised my hand to brush a bunch off, I couldn’t. ‘Why?’ I asked the island with a hint of suspicion. ‘Why can I not remove them?’

The first thought of the island floated gently to my mind. It held a touch of determination as if it knew where we were going and what it wanted to show me.


I hoped it could understand my sincere confusion, for I didn’t wish to offend it. ‘The webs are pretty as they cling to my skin?’ I asked out loud, not really able to hide my scepticism.

The response was a feeling of acknowledged surety. Naturally, spiderwebs were beautiful things. Naturally, the island thought that being covered with shining strands of creation is akin to being blessed with gifts of jewellery. Even if these particular gifts were made by tiny eight-legged creatures.

Reminding myself that I was here to explore a new world, a new way, I wiped my eyes clean and left the rest of the webs hanging on me. Who am I to dictate the human standards of beauty and irrational fears of icky spiders to a forest consciousness?

The island seemed pleased enough for I could feel a pull onwards. There was something it wanted to show me and I was eager for an adventure.

Soon we arrived at a sprawling ants nest and my legs stopped in front of it.
‘Feel,’ the now-familiar flavour of thought entered my mind.

‘Feel? The ants?’ 

Receiving a tiny spark of encouragement, I gently pushed my energetic field to envelop the crowds of bustling ants. It felt like… like… Life.

Life. The seeking, wandering, determined energy of life was seeping from the nest, reaching towards expansion and finding safety in contraction. Each of the ants had a purpose, something to do, to achieve. Each knew their place in the great hive and even though they never understood the nature of the whole, they knew where each of them belonged, always.

Purpose and connection…no sense of fear. It was beautiful.

For a few moments I was enthralled by the experience of being one with the ants when, at the edge of my awareness, something else caught my attention. The island itself was surrounding the anthill. 

And the island was proud.

Like a proud mama, it wished for me to see what magnificence it could sustain on its surface. Or, perhaps like an innocent child, it wanted to show me what it had built and nurtured, hoping I could partake of its joy for hosting such tremendous treasures right here.

I didn’t get too far with my mindful attempt to categorise that relationship with the ants. A strong gust of wind shook me from that deliberation as a thought ‘Now this!’ roared through my body. 

The sea was rippling with foaming waves as the wind relentlessly tugged on the shallow waters to eventually crash upon the land. At the shoreline, the reeds and the small trees heaved with the force of the air moving through them. Honestly, in my summer attire it was getting kind of cold and unpleasant in the wind. For a moment I wondered if I should cut my walk short.

‘Feel what I feel!’ the island commanded in my head. The words now less floaty and more determined.

Without further thinking, I felt the rush of my mind expanding through the entire island, enveloping each tree, bird and butterfly in its consciousness. Touching the tops of the pine trees, I forgot about being cold or uncomfortable. This was too exhilarating. So…wow…big!
(Exactly. That’s how many words I was able to muster.)

The island had me now and it had a plan, for my expanded awareness suddenly narrowed, focusing on the shoreline where my body was standing in awe and…

My entire being exploded into pleasure. A full-blown ecstasy of being.

The wind which just seconds ago had felt so cold and relentless was now a source of playful caresses for the water and the leaves of the trees. The sea cuddled up around the shoreline as the waves brushed at the edges of the island, causing tender shudders of delight as the elements met in their invigorating dance.

The trees were vibrating in pure blissful ecstasy. The wind brought news with careful waves of their branches. Small rays of sunshine moved through the tree-tops, the warmth of the sun racing down the trunk, all the way to the roots in the steady soil which was filled to the brim with island-love.

In my body the entire shoreline – with the trees, the rocks, the reeds and even the ants! – felt suspended in a drawn out, never-ending state of a wondrous, fearless orgasm. Pure, undulated pleasure.

Naturally, I couldn’t stay in it. For I am human, used to my severed self. For centuries my kind has developed and honed a concept of a thinking mind. That part of human gets really uncomfortable in extended states of experiential pleasure.

In me, that part heaved and struggled in effort to gain control and understand what I was feeling. It wanted to categorise the experience for a safe storage it in its memory.

My beautiful thinking mind expanded into the effort of certainty. It wanted to ensure we would never forget this pleasure, this moment. In the process it pulled us both out of the actual experiencing of it. Out of the perpetual bliss, back to the shore where the wind had invited goosebumps across the skin of my limbs.

The island had fulfilled its intent, the plan it had for our connected time together. A gracious host, it allowed my mind to return to my small-self, instilling a grain of hope that I would indeed remember this, that my body could keep vibrating in the rhythm of the pleasure I had felt as part of it.

That the nature of nature is orgasmic.
That the elements dance in the pure bliss of being.
That each part of this Earth makes love with its other parts.
Over and over again. Always.

Why would I– ?
Why would we desire to be separate from this?

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