On Being In Place, and Motion

rock dam kwenitekw erosion

Imagine yourself at a certain point, a point around which everything converges. Not because you are the most important presence there, but because you are completely surrounded by presences, in every direction, in every dimension. This is everyday life. Wherever you are, you are surrounded by everything else.

You are not in the middle of nowhere, you are in the center of everything. No matter where you are, you are in the center.

This is a good description of the state we call the “present.” You – are – here – now.

Then what happens? What is ahead of you? Change is ahead of you. Change is with you. Change is constant.

Keep in mind that all along you are still in the center, at that convergence point. You are still completely surrounded by everything else, but since change is constant, everything around you is in motion. Creation is continual. And you are surrounded by it – you are a part of it – thus you yourself are literally in “motion.”

In that moment of the continuum, you are necessarily in the present, in the center, but the totality – including you – is shifting and moving. This is the illusion of time. It is motion, it is change. From one thing to another and back again.

What does this even mean? – like, in real life?

As things move around you, and you move around as well, your view of what is before you – your perspective – shifts. As a crow flies past your field of sight, you are able to see different parts of it, moving east to west, now the head and now the tail. As you circle the stoutness of a hemlock tree, the enveloping pattern of the furrowed bark morphs subtly, wrapping the trunk in texture. As the sun arcs overhead in the mountainside grove, the shadows lengthen and pivot. Everything changes.

You, the crow, the tree, and the sun are all there, in that place, together, but in shifting circumstances. Everything has transformed a little bit (or a lot). You are relating to each other in a different manner than you were before. You are in a set of constantly evolving relationships.

This is the way of it.

 

Let the Light Flow

brook ledge opening stoned up

Hidden behind a mountain high above Wantastegok, a small brook drains a forgotten swamp lush with high-bush cranberry, chickadees, and sphagnum moss. Secreted beyond the forested ridgeline, hemmed with mountain laurel and hemlocks, the clear amber water seeps through the roots and fallen leaves, and gathers into a narrow crease as it seeks a way to the Kwanitekw below. Dikes of schist ledge rise in its downward path, nudging it here and there, slow and now fast, as the pull of gravity leads it toward the great river in the valley. One such ledge offered an opportune notch toward the goal of confluence, but someone, long ago, saw a better moment nearby. Stones were laid into the gap, diverting the flow a few feet further south toward another opening, where a vein of pure white quartz crossed the bedrock.

brook white quartz flow

The water coursed over the bright light of the stone, continuing on its journey, the same flow but now infused with caring and energy. Still it moves down the mountain, many hundreds of lives later, following its destiny and carrying the intentions of an ancient heart and sharing the gift with all of its relations.

#ReclaimingWantastegok #2