Nature as Teacher of Community
Where Roots Intertwine
Standing in the North here at the retreat center is a family of aspens, their trunks slender and upright, their leaves quivering in the slightest breeze. Aspens have incredible healing qualities. In fact, I often work with Aspen as a flower essence for those who experience anxiety, returning them to positive potential and inner peace. However, one of the greatest lessons these trees can teach us is about connection.
In fact, everywhere we turn, nature is showing us how to live in true community.
The aspen grows not in isolation, but as part of a greater grove, whose roots intertwine with its kin beneath the soil. In this way, the aspens mirror both resilience and relationship, which is an image of what we, too, are called to embody. We must stand tall in our truth, integrity, rooted in connection, and shimmering with the play of shadow and light that reveals who we are and what we stand for.
They share a single, vast root system that feeds and sustains the whole. When one tree is weak, the others send nutrients its way. When one is thriving, its strength ripples outward to the rest. In the aspen family, no tree is left out. Each belongs, each is nourished, and each has a role in the life of the grove.
This is the reminder: as we expand our community, we must be willing to look at our shadow and light and hold each other in sacred council. It is not about standing with one another only when it feels easy or we are riding the bliss cloud post journey. It is about remaining rooted together through every season, especially when it is challenging and hard. In a culture that so often celebrates the individual and discards what feels difficult, the aspen calls us back to a deeper truth that we are stronger, wiser, and more whole when we refuse to leave one another behind.
The Sacred Mushroom
The mushrooms offer us a similar mirror of wisdom. Beneath the forest floor, their mycelial networks stitch together entire ecosystems. They are constantly in communication, sending messages across miles of soil, sharing resources between species, and distributing resilience where it is needed most. This unseen web ensures that life is not only sustained but thrives in diversity and complexity. In their quiet, unassuming way, the mushrooms remind us that life itself depends on reciprocity. To be healthy is not to be independent, but to be in continual exchange, to give and receive, to recognize that our survival and flourishing are bound up with each other.
This time of season, of course, makes me think about the autumn harvest, which throughout history has always been a collective act. Communities have long gathered at this turning of the season to bring in the fruits of their labor, to share meals, to sing, to mourn, and to celebrate. Harvest is all about remembering that which sustains us, whether that be grain, fruit, wisdom, or love. These resources were never meant to be hoarded in isolation, but rather, meant to be brought to the table and shared among many while being received with gratitude.
The Autumn Invitation
Autumn, then, becomes a natural season of reflection. The bright blaze of summer gives way to a quieter rhythm, and with that shift comes an invitation to look inward as much as outward. The falling leaves remind us that letting go is part of the cycle. The long shadows call us to slow down and see more clearly. In this transitional space, we are asked to consider: How are my roots intertwined with those of others? Where am I willing to both nourish and be nourished? What am I prepared to release back to the earth so that something new might take its place?
Autumn teaches us that harvest is not only about gathering, but also about refinement. It is about discerning what has ripened in us and what is ready to be released. Just as the trees do not cling to their leaves, we too are asked to let go of what no longer serves. In letting go, we make space for what is essential and true to emerge.
Ceremony as Collective Harvest
When we step into ceremony during this season, we bring all of these teachings together. We honor what has ripened (our growth, our lessons, our breakthroughs) and we give thanks for the ways life has sustained us.
What we harvest together is rarely just one thing. Sometimes it comes in the form of joy, a sudden clarity, or a renewed sense of vision. Other times it takes the shape of grief, tenderness, or the simple relief of belonging. Whatever arises, it is all sacred. Ceremony teaches us to trust the larger cycle, for it is all part of the same spiral of life, death, and renewal.
At Boulder Canyon Retreat Center, The Harvest retreat is born from this spirit. It is a space to remember what nature never forgets: that we are not alone, that our lives are intertwined, and that true nourishment comes when we root ourselves in one another. When we come together in this way…like the aspens, like the mushrooms, like the generations who have gathered in harvest…we step into a deeper rhythm of belonging. In that rhythm, we find both the strength to stand tall in who we are and the humility to know that who we are is inseparable from the whole.
