Gnoming - For Lifting Depression, Inviting Play, and Creativity
When I look back at the things I engaged in and the things I wrote about, I see a wisdom there that I never knew I had.
In the moment as I engaged in them it seemed play-like. Therefore, I treated them as irrelevant to my spiritual experience. Unimportant, silly, and even embarrassing.
One of those things is gnoming.
My experienced outcomes with gnoming:
a higher vision or new perspective
a good distraction that leaves me feeling like there’s a small crack where the light can now shine through
feeling of being in the present
a sense of quiet excitement
a feeling like I got/caught a break
life companions from the more-than-human world
My times to gnome:
When I’m feeling down in the dumps
When I’m confused or overwhelmed with something
When I want to be creative but I can’t find the inspiration
What is gnoming?
Gnoming is my practice of going out into nature and collecting gifts of every and any kind. I’ve collected beach rocks, shiny pebbles, feathers, pine cones, fallen branches, shed leaves, shed flowers, and shells. I don’t pluck, cut, pick, or break off anything. I just collect. I collect not with an attitude to possess. But to affirm to my being that yes, indeed, I love this thing. This being gives me joy.
When I come home, I bring these beings into my space in an honoring way. Beach rocks have been given portal rights as I lined them across the driveway to my home. Feathers have become bookmarks in the books I am reading at the time.
Things to note - Go alone. Carry a small backpack with a few empty containers. Collect, don’t destroy. It does not have to be a formal gnome walk.
Anecdote For Me to Remember
I just got my ear piercings and nose piercing checked for any necessary adjustments. I was feeling particularly happy with how my piercings turned out and it was a beautiful sunny day in San Jose, California. I had to walk to where I had parked my car through a small grove of trees. As I walked, I was unintentionally noticing the color of the trees, the sounds of the birds, and the texture of the wind.
Almost as if by design, I suddenly looked at the ground.
Just a few steps in front of me was the most beautiful, perfectly branch-ed branch I had ever seen. I picked it up and took it home with me.
A few months later I was moving to Seattle. I fit all my belongings into my little red, 2 door, Honda Civic. I gave up all my furniture, donated my laptop, and pretty much got rid of everything other than my clothes.
I could not get rid of my branch. Every logical part of me decided it was a stupid idea to try to make space for a delicate branch that would probably break during the 10 hour drive to Seattle.
Well, love won.
Apart from a few twigs that snapped, my branch made it with me. It remains with me to this day, occupying a distinctive place in my room.
I cannot explain the reasons why it is special. And none of that matters anyway.
It is love. It is magic. It is joy. It is the feeling of loving and being loved in return. That’s what matters, Dilshad. Remember that.