In This Moment
"A seed does not worry where it grows. It simply grows."
Being present.
It is one of the most sought-after experiences in modern life. New age methodologies, self-help books, spiritual movements — so many of them circle around the promise of teaching you how to be present. How to live in the moment. How to put down the burdens of yesterday and the worries of tomorrow.
For me, and for many Druids who walk the old ways, being present is not something separate from who we are. It is not a task to master. It is our natural state, like the seed growing in the soil.
When a seed first awakens, it does not know where it is. It does not worry about whether the ground will be perfect, or whether there is enough space. It simply grows. It sends roots down until it meets a stone — and when it meets the stone, it curves and grows around it. It does not stop and wither because of worry. It thrives because it was meant to thrive.
We are like this. We are beings meant to experience life, not to ascend above it or descend below it. Not gods, not angels — but humans. (Or whatever word you hold dear for the beautiful, flawed, magnificent experience of being alive.)
The Druid’s Path of Presence
Many spiritual paths encourage the pursuit of becoming more "godlike," or achieving a "higher self."
In my Druidry — in the rustic earthbound practices that shape my life — the goal is not to be better than others. It is not to transcend. It is to integrate. To become fully present in ourselves.
We seek laughter, not loftiness. Comfort, not crowns. Joy, not judgment. We grow in the moment, and from that growth, we create a better relationship with ourselves — and through that, a better relationship with the world.
"When given obstacles, we pivot. When given sorrow, we root deeper."
When given the refuse and the pain of life, we compost it into wisdom and strength.
We grow. We bloom. We live.
But to do this — to truly do this — we must be present.
The Weight of Yesterday and the Fear of Tomorrow
We must not live in yesterday, where regret, guilt, and shame take root and choke us.
We must not live in tomorrow, where fear, anxiety, and uncertainty loom.
We must live now. Because this moment — this fleeting, shimmering, precious moment — is all that we ever truly have.
"You are not meant to carry the past forever, nor fear the future always. You are meant to thrive in this breath, in this heartbeat, in this life."
Are you sitting there burdened with sorrow? Are you overwhelmed with the weight of what has been and what might be?
Then stop. Ground. Earth yourself. This is not a luxury for the wealthy. This is not something you must schedule in your planner. It is a simple, radical act of presence.
Feel your feet. Stretch your arms. Listen for the rustle of a tree, the call of a bird, the hum of your own breathing. Find a simple joy.
If you can — put your toes in the sand. Feel the rain on your face. Smell the earth after a fresh rain.
If you cannot — find it where you are. Good food shared with a friend. A slow, gentle stretch in your living room. Music that carries you. A book that lets your mind exhale.
Or — and I say this in the spirit of Digital Druidry — even a digital world where you can breathe for a moment. A game that gives you a sense of adventure. A landscape in a digital space that opens your heart the way a real forest would. A virtual space that lets your mind be at peace, if even just for a while.
These moments are not lesser. They are your roots finding soil, wherever you happen to be.
Rustic Earth: Living in Presence
Rustic Earth lives by these truths.
In our food — we savor the simple.
In our movement — we honor the body.
In our music — we uplift the soul.
In every small act of self-kindness, we celebrate what it means to be alive.
Not perfect. Not higher. But fully present.
"Go out and find your joy. Right now. As you are. As this moment offers."
Because this moment — is everything.