Imagine yourself alone when you turn your eyes toward the night sky filled with numberless stars among which the flash of a comet’s trail laces it way. As you observe the scene, what are your thoughts? Do you feel a kinship with that which you behold?

Nature, whether in the sky or on the earth or within oneself, possesses the capacity to trigger inspiration. There is a reverence about such engagement, a sacred dimension that touches one’s depth. When I reflect on the issue, I am convinced that I need more time away from the distracting noise and pace of modern life to explore my relationship with stars, mountain peaks, ocean waves, and people. Moreover, I am pleasantly surprised when I realize the life-giving capacity of my surroundings that can be tapped by breaking away from preoccupation to focus my attention.

In his book, The Nature Principle, Richard Louv declares that many of us suffer from a “Nature Deficit Disorder” and calls us to discipline ourselves for more intentional exposure to that which surrounds us and has the capacity to bless us. David Suzuki, referencing Louv’s work, writes: “This book provides a way back to where we belong, a world full of reverence, joy, and discovery.”

In his Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster writes, “So give your attention to the created order. Look at the trees, really look at them. Take a flower and allow its beauty and symmetry to sink deep into your mind and heart. Listen to the birds—they are the messengers of God. Watch the little creatures that creep upon the earth. These are humble acts, to be sure, but sometimes God reaches us profoundly in these simple ways if we will quiet ourselves to listen.”

There is wisdom here, wisdom that counsels us not to be captured by that which limits our vision to ourselves, our gadgets, and a pace so rapid that we fail to look up and reach out to all the wonder that surrounds us, taking time to behold, to breathe, and to believe.