Thank you Caroline. Since the day I got a phone in my hand I have found myself in a state of suspended tension, and always find myself fighting as a rock against wind, man against world. Clutching rosary beads or clenching teeth or strange diets - and there's a place for these. But the concept of stillness is easy to forget for young ones like me born with headphones and stimulants from the womb. I was instructed in the Dao as a young man by a fantastic philosophy teacher, it went over my head, but you've left me hungry to dive back into it. You explain this tension - and what lies beyond it - truly wonderfully. Much to munch on, thank you very much a chara.
It’s the embeddedness that speaks to me. When you say,
If we simultaneously outreach beyond our small self of ‘I’, and accept our unique embedded place in society, land, community, ecology, we can relax, as we don’t have to hold ourselves up alone. That even if frail or dying, we are still part of the fabric of life and not to be rooted-out.
I think of my mother, tonight, frail at 91, fading after three falls. And sitting with her, feeding her, I feel us both loved at her aged care home. Residents and staff honouring her, pleased that she’s made it to the dining room again. And in those moments I feel them all holding her, encouraging her, lifting us both back into life. For now, they loved us.
Ah, this is great to hear. Also, '...pleased that she's made it to the dining room again,' is the most beautiful and apt evocation of conviviality, care, embeddedness and even hope. That someone is glad we have come again to the table feels like the heart of what I write about as an antidote to the Hubriscene. Thanks for sharing this.
I love your ruminations on Moor as Mirror, and the need to slow down and de-escalate aspirations to peaks and high places. Sparklingly written, too! One of my favorite sections, about applying Wu Wei to our lives: "We become like bogs: absorptive, unclear, not immediately useful, slower, fuller, moderating the flows of thought and life, like peat. We make ourselves less prone to flooding, and save others the ill effects, we abide with the weather, internal or external. We are not dredged and straightened, fast flowing and full of vessels plying cargo, we are difficult to navigate, we must be crossed with care, perhaps by currach." To me this asks for an embrace of "the feminine" -- of fertile chaos, darkness, not knowing, no-plan time, and of moods!, all of which are so essential to creativity and regeneration. Thank you for your offerings here!
What a nourishing read, Caroline. Soggy through and through and so nutrient-rich! It comes at a synchronistic moment, of course, just as I come in from the squelchy land where I live (dry as a bone and hard as rock in summer...), where I was engaged in the long-haul annual tidy-up after coppicing work and mulling over an invitation I want to make to a woman I have only met once, about learning from her to make gözleme with produce from our local farmers to feed members of the local community when they come together to make carnival in an old abandoned citadel in the nearest town... It's all about roots, and radical and radial relationship... I think I'm in love!!!
Thanks Caroline. There is much to absorb in your damp wonderings. In my youth, I was a West Coast boy. Happiest at the top of another mountain gazing out across the ocean at the far horizon with its promise of fresh lands to conquer. It is only in recent years that I have taken time to get to know the eastern parts of this island. A friend has access to a simple wooden shack in the middle of the Norfolk Broads and invited my wife and I to stay there. At first I was disorientated by the flatness. Without the reassuring presence of the friendly mountains, I felt vulnerable and exposed. And it was so boring - all this level sameness.
As usual, it took a few gentle nudges from my wife to make me see the beauty that she saw from the outset. She showed me that all I needed to do was to adjust my focus, shift my frame of reference. Bring my gaze closer. Open my ears. Stop prioritising the visual and use all my senses. It has been a beautiful voyage of discovery into a new world and new ways of sensing the world. Your writing reminds me of that feeling. Thanks again.
So good to hear. Incremental 'Adjustment of view' is the undervalued method.
I will also admit to feeling somewhat out of sorts in very flat places, whether dry or wet. Never have I felt more exposed than in the Mid West of the USA as big storms engulfed the bright blue featureless sky.
Thank you Caroline. Since the day I got a phone in my hand I have found myself in a state of suspended tension, and always find myself fighting as a rock against wind, man against world. Clutching rosary beads or clenching teeth or strange diets - and there's a place for these. But the concept of stillness is easy to forget for young ones like me born with headphones and stimulants from the womb. I was instructed in the Dao as a young man by a fantastic philosophy teacher, it went over my head, but you've left me hungry to dive back into it. You explain this tension - and what lies beyond it - truly wonderfully. Much to munch on, thank you very much a chara.
It’s the embeddedness that speaks to me. When you say,
If we simultaneously outreach beyond our small self of ‘I’, and accept our unique embedded place in society, land, community, ecology, we can relax, as we don’t have to hold ourselves up alone. That even if frail or dying, we are still part of the fabric of life and not to be rooted-out.
I think of my mother, tonight, frail at 91, fading after three falls. And sitting with her, feeding her, I feel us both loved at her aged care home. Residents and staff honouring her, pleased that she’s made it to the dining room again. And in those moments I feel them all holding her, encouraging her, lifting us both back into life. For now, they loved us.
Ah, this is great to hear. Also, '...pleased that she's made it to the dining room again,' is the most beautiful and apt evocation of conviviality, care, embeddedness and even hope. That someone is glad we have come again to the table feels like the heart of what I write about as an antidote to the Hubriscene. Thanks for sharing this.
Marinading in these warm, wet words has been a blessing. Thank you!
I love your ruminations on Moor as Mirror, and the need to slow down and de-escalate aspirations to peaks and high places. Sparklingly written, too! One of my favorite sections, about applying Wu Wei to our lives: "We become like bogs: absorptive, unclear, not immediately useful, slower, fuller, moderating the flows of thought and life, like peat. We make ourselves less prone to flooding, and save others the ill effects, we abide with the weather, internal or external. We are not dredged and straightened, fast flowing and full of vessels plying cargo, we are difficult to navigate, we must be crossed with care, perhaps by currach." To me this asks for an embrace of "the feminine" -- of fertile chaos, darkness, not knowing, no-plan time, and of moods!, all of which are so essential to creativity and regeneration. Thank you for your offerings here!
Thank you. Here the snow is melting and the moss is greening. Tiny voices, singing.
This is the real news.
What a nourishing read, Caroline. Soggy through and through and so nutrient-rich! It comes at a synchronistic moment, of course, just as I come in from the squelchy land where I live (dry as a bone and hard as rock in summer...), where I was engaged in the long-haul annual tidy-up after coppicing work and mulling over an invitation I want to make to a woman I have only met once, about learning from her to make gözleme with produce from our local farmers to feed members of the local community when they come together to make carnival in an old abandoned citadel in the nearest town... It's all about roots, and radical and radial relationship... I think I'm in love!!!
I just looked up gözleme. Excellent! Best of luck with your radical radiating.
Thanks Caroline. There is much to absorb in your damp wonderings. In my youth, I was a West Coast boy. Happiest at the top of another mountain gazing out across the ocean at the far horizon with its promise of fresh lands to conquer. It is only in recent years that I have taken time to get to know the eastern parts of this island. A friend has access to a simple wooden shack in the middle of the Norfolk Broads and invited my wife and I to stay there. At first I was disorientated by the flatness. Without the reassuring presence of the friendly mountains, I felt vulnerable and exposed. And it was so boring - all this level sameness.
As usual, it took a few gentle nudges from my wife to make me see the beauty that she saw from the outset. She showed me that all I needed to do was to adjust my focus, shift my frame of reference. Bring my gaze closer. Open my ears. Stop prioritising the visual and use all my senses. It has been a beautiful voyage of discovery into a new world and new ways of sensing the world. Your writing reminds me of that feeling. Thanks again.
So good to hear. Incremental 'Adjustment of view' is the undervalued method.
I will also admit to feeling somewhat out of sorts in very flat places, whether dry or wet. Never have I felt more exposed than in the Mid West of the USA as big storms engulfed the bright blue featureless sky.
This is so rich Caroline, it’s fed my Monday morning in the best way. I intend to reread, with pauses to better absorb the ideas.
I really enjoyed this. It meanders like a healthy stream :)
Thank you. Never knowingly straightening my thoughts, since 1972.