EN
FR
What If Nature Has Been Trying to Teach You Something This Whole Time?
Margot Gels
I’ve been living on the land for nine years now. And for a long time, I looked at nature the way many of us do, something beautiful to be in, to care for, to protect. Something outside of me.
Then one afternoon in the garden, I was watching seeds I’d sown a few weeks earlier finally push through the soil. And something shifted. Not in the garden. In me.
I really looked for the first time.
A tiny seed, buried in complete darkness, without light, without certainty, without any guarantee of what waited above, just opens. Pushes through. With a force nothing can stop.
And it hit me: this seed doesn’t wonder if it’s ready. It doesn’t wait for permission. It doesn’t shrink from fear of judgment or failure. It doesn’t tell itself “maybe it’s not my moment yet” or “maybe I’m not enough.”
It just opens.
We do the exact opposite.
We carry layers of conditioning that tell us we’re not ready, not good enough, not legitimate. We wait for someone to validate us. We hold ourselves back from fear of rejection, of getting it wrong, of being seen. And somehow, right at the moment something wants to emerge in us, that’s exactly when the doubt arrives.
But the seed knows none of this. And somewhere in us, neither do we. That knowing is still there, underneath everything we’ve learned to put on top of it.
That afternoon was the beginning of something I’ve been living into ever since: nature as our most honest mirror. Not as metaphor. As direct reflection. Every cycle, every organism, every season, showing us something about ourselves if we actually stop and look.
This summer, I brought this into a retreat held here on our land in the south of France, and it’s become something I now offer as a dedicated session for groups. The next one is already planned for August.
We gathered in what we call the magic meadow. Ferns, beech trees, a stream running through, wild grasses, and in the middle of it all, two trees that have grown so close together they’ve become almost one being: a cherry and an oak, intertwined.
I gave the group two questions to sit with in silence. Not to answer with their minds, but to find somewhere in the land around them.
The first: where is my strength right now, and what is still keeping it from emerging?
The second: what is transforming in me, and what am I not yet ready to let go of?
No instructions beyond that. No journaling prompts, no framework. Just a small notebook to write or draw in, and the land.
What came back in the sharing circle was something I won’t easily forget. One person had followed a small animal trail through the grass without thinking, and realized afterward that this was exactly what they needed to stop doing in their life: constantly figuring out how to make things happen, instead of simply following what was already moving. Another recognized their own joy in a yellow flower, and then sat with the harder truth that this joy isn’t always allowed in. A fern still tightly coiled. A root system exposed by erosion. A flower that had opened despite being half in shadow.
Nobody found what I would have pointed them toward. That’s the whole point.
The land does this. When you bring a real question to it and actually wait, it answers.
Before we closed, I brought the group to those two trees. A cherry and an oak, not the ideal conditions for either of them, not the space either would have chosen. And yet, two full trees, completely themselves. And in growing alongside each other, something entirely new had been created. Something that couldn’t have existed any other way. When I look at them, I think of myself. Of my own life. Every change that felt impossible, every season I didn’t choose, it created something I couldn’t have imagined from where I was standing. That’s what these trees keep showing me.
Every difficult change in my life has eventually done this. Created something I couldn’t have imagined from where I was standing. If any part of this resonates, that feeling of something wanting to emerge in you, or a change you’re in the middle of that you don’t quite have language for yet, start here.
Your First Nature Reset is a free practice I created to help you begin this on your own, wherever you are. A simple, guided way to bring a real question into nature and actually listen for what comes back.
And if you want to go deeper into working with nature as your mirror and guide, my guide Quantum Jumping with Nature takes this further. into your daily life, your decisions, the way you read what’s around you.
Or come find us on Instagram at @lerevedegaia, this is where we share what’s alive on the land, day by day.
The land is always saying something. The question is whether we’re listening.
– Margot
Le Rêve de Gaïa
Your Tax Free Donations Are Appreciated and Help Fund our Volunteer Website
Disclaimer: We at Prepare for Change (PFC) bring you information that is not offered by the mainstream news, and therefore may seem controversial. The opinions, views, statements, and/or information we present are not necessarily promoted, endorsed, espoused, or agreed to by Prepare for Change, its leadership Council, members, those who work with PFC, or those who read its content. However, they are hopefully provocative. Please use discernment! Use logical thinking, your own intuition and your own connection with Source, Spirit and Natural Laws to help you determine what is true and what is not. By sharing information and seeding dialogue, it is our goal to raise consciousness and awareness of higher truths to free us from enslavement of the matrix in this material realm.
