I am also reading In the Company of Light by John Hay. The book is wonderful. I choose this to quote.
Primitive is a term of convenience, used to describe less developed and less complex organisms on the evolutionary ladder, or it refers to human societies we think are less advanced than we are. Still, what could be more dangerous and backward than a whole world isolating itself from the rest of creation through a false assumption of superiority? It has become easy for us in the modern world to substitute ideas of ownership for a wilderness that was never owned except by original life, in immense variety. To live with it was both extremely dangerous and exalting, and some of those distant ancestors of ours, on the near edge of the unknown, translated their whole experience into unforgettable art.
Who could look at the drawings, carvings, and paintings on the cave walls of France and Spain, twenty to thirty thousand years old, without marveling at their artistry? They reflect a close and passionate engagement with a world of primal life. Those shaggy mammoths and bisons, those bellowing bulls, the wild horses with beautifully shaped heads, galloping or entering a river, the deer, the great bear, the salmon, and the birds, are eternally present. Onlookers from a vast distance, we are brought in to see an uncompromised equation of a hunting people with the great animals that shared their world, and measured their destiny. So the hunter-artists carried their torches in to light a reverential darkness.
Wow! That is well-said. The book is about relationship between predator and prey. We float here, so often, oblivious, to the fact that we, too, are nature and part of the exchange. I think I see it most here in the difference between the year-round residents and some of the "tourists." Yesterday, some people were adament they had to get off the island before the storm. They could not be "stuck" here. I think we are all stuck somewhere in some way, and we also have the choice as to how to absorb it. How do we meet the ocean waves? Do we go over or under? Do we massage or pummel in the swirl? I think the important point is to meet each wave new, with awareness of adjusting the response of the past.
The books I am reading point out the danger of thinking this planet is just a place to stomp on, and, then, "relax." The point is to integrate, to feel the relationship, the constantly evolving relationship. Movement is a given, even if we feel stuck. The planet is twirling. The seasons are changing. We can't just stop.
I think that in the night I sunk into the feeling of this land under me here. The wind was my companion, encouraging me to delve. It pushed on the windows, nudging me, and requesting me to feel!
I was feeling a bit floaty still, on this island 30 miles from shore, but, in my dreams, I was on a huge cruise ship, and swinging on a swing, that allowed me to see the ship, water, air, and the whole world. People from all countries were with me, and we all understood some wider connection. We reveled in the air, like bubbles in champagne.
I am grateful to be here. I see awareness like a game of tic tac toe, and I reach for a wider board.
The x's and o's, the hugs and kisses of my life, are frequent, strong, and bold, and, ask gently, like opening flowers, to be told.
The sun just emerged. I see how it beckons. Yesterday was gray, and I was a recluse. Today, if it is sunny, we will have a clam-lobster bake here. It is no work, for us, other than the picking up. It is delivered. There will be bouncing children, parents, and a definite change of pace.
Joy to All, in every way!! Paint the walls of your cave in sacred pictures of connection. Hold a rock in your hand, and hear it sing. The way is comfort. The path is known, and the song is waiting always, for us to sink into the liquidity of our mold, our form.