This is Why-Part One

It's taken me quite some time to get to this point. I have tried to sit down and type my thoughts for some time now. It has seemed like a daunting task, but it's a necessary exercise that I must do.

Why is this scary? Because sometimes when you delve into yourself to dig out what causes passionate reactions, both good and bad, other emotions/memories/thoughts are mixed in. This can sometimes become a Pandora's box of clutter that must be sorted, and that is the fear inside of me. But I believe that I was not given a spirit of fear, so I will press on.

If this becomes too long or is in need of breaking it up into segments, I will do it. But I will stop pushing it off, as I have done for the past couple of months.

I don't remember exactly when I first decided that I was "green"; it was just something I grew into. Growing up, my mom was very frugal and conscious about reusing most things. I owe my shopping savyness to her and the collection of things to be used into a container called the "craft box". Perhaps these early habits sparked my creative side to the designer I am today, but I don't remember learning very much about recycling until high school.

My earliest recollection of environmentally conscious efforts were related to endangered species, the reduction of rainforest, and Fern Gully, a movie that created a new fear in me by the poisoning of trees and curiosity if those things really happened.

I have always loved nature and being outdoors, so it was a natural tendency to react with empathy for the animals and trees that I heard about. Movies really affect me, as I take on emotions from the film, sometimes too much. As a child watching trees poisoned and a fairy trying to save them, tears fell down my cheeks as I realized I did not want that to happen to the areas outside that I loved so much.

Whether it was climbing trees, collecting berries and leaves for stews, smelling the blooms of honeysuckle at my grandmother's house, creating rolly pollie resorts and swimming pools, or exploring my grandparents' ranch, I thrived in these spaces. These were places I felt fully alive, learned so much about the world around me, and most importantly, came to appreciate the beautiful creation of a loving God and understand His love for me.

Nature evokes peace. Nature emits love. Nature invites healing. Nature erases pain. I learned these things early on, in a way only one who explores as a sojourner, alone and free. I didn't realize I knew these things or believed these things until later on, but those early years of exploration were the base of my love for nature, a mutual love that will never end.