Remembering Nature
Remembering Nature - Meditation & Transcript
Written & Read by Nicoline Huizinga
Let this be a moment of gentle returning to yourself, to the ground beneath you, to something more quiet, something older than the pace of the world.
Make sure you have a comfortable position. Let your body rest. Close your eyes if you would like to or just soften your gaze.
There's nowhere else to be. Just be present.
Now, let's begin with a few slow, nourishing breaths. Breathe in through your nose like so and out through your mouth. Let's do that again. Breathe in through your nose and out through the mouth.
Let your body start to settle. You don't need to do anything right now. You're allowed to simply be.
Now, imagine yourself in nature. You're sitting at the edge of a quiet forest. The air is cool and grounding. The sun warms your skin gently. And above you, a soft light filters through the leaves. The leaves move gently in the breeze. Everything is calm. Everything is alive. And you are held in it.
Here there is no rush. There is no pressure. There is just rhythm. Just breath. Let yourself feel that and breathe it in.
Now let's notice how the forest moves. The trees grow slowly. They don't strive. They deepen their roots before reaching higher. They bend when the wind comes. They don't resist the seasons. They simply continue.
Now imagine your spine, your own spine as a tree trunk, strong, flexible, connected to both earth and sky. Feel your sitting bones and your feet grounding into the earth, as if roots were growing from you down into the earth, down and down into stability.
And with every breath, feel yourself growing steadier, more rooted, more present, more powerful.
Now bring your awareness to water. Picture a river flowing nearby. Watch it curve and move. Not because it's pushing, but because it's following the shape of the land. Let your breath become the river, smooth, steady, and continuous.
You don't need to push. You don't need to figure it all out. Let the image of the river remind you you are allowed to flow, to move at your own pace, and to trust that the current will carry you forward.
Breathe into that trust. Inhale and exhale and let yourself soften.
Now imagine yourself as a part of this landscape. Maybe you are a flower or a leafy plant in the shade or a moss resting on stone. There is no urgency here. You are not asked to bloom all the time. There is no judgment. No rush, only cycles. Rest, regeneration, return.
Some flowers bloom only once a year, some only at night, some only after fire. Whatever season you are in, it belongs.
Now, let this be your permission to pause, to not know, to wait, and to trust that your own season will arrive in its own time.
Now return to the bigger picture. This forest, this water, this life, all of it follows ancient patterns. No rush, no forcing, no panic. Our ancestors lived by these rhythms. They watched the sky instead of screens. They followed the wind, the birds, the soil. And in doing so, they knew something we are now remembering—that resilience is not about pushing through. It's about listening. It's about adapting. It's about moving with the world and not against it.
You don't need to fix yourself. You're not behind. You are already part of something wise.
Now, let's take a few final breaths to wrap up this meditation with that knowing. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. And let your body absorb the stillness. Let your nervous system rest. Feel your roots. Feel your rhythm. Feel your return.
And when you're ready, begin to bring small movements back into your body. Wiggle your fingers, your toes, roll your shoulders if it feels good. Stretch if your body asks for it.
Let your eyes gently open when it's time. Come back to the room. Come back to now, but still soft, still whole, still wise.
You are nature. And you already know how to begin again.