April 28, 2007
This is in reaction to reading my post about the March 25, 1993 black box session
When I was a little boy playing in the woods, on one level I would be making up stories — playing cowboys or something — that I can’t remember, so many decades later. But on other level, I see now, a different part of me was being nourished. The trees created a sacred space, in a way, although that concept would have meant nothing to me.
Inside – in the house – were toys and television. Outside were swings and bicycles and games with my brothers and others. But I can’t remember ever playing in the woods with others. This was not by design, it just happened. The woods were mine.
I see now what I scarcely noticed then, that I had a very solitary childhood. Because I lived among the three brothers and two sisters, and had extended family, I hardly noticed this. But I had no close friend until I was in high school, and only one then. I lived not among people but among books – and before books came the woods. A little later came the farm, and I spent a few years doing tractor work – plowing, disking, cultivating. But first came the woods. Between the television dreams of the old West, and the woods behind the house, and then my reading, I lived a solitary life and didn’t realize it.
There was something deeply nourishing in the woods connection. I wonder what it was. But my life moved in to other paths, and books and restless motion supplanted woods and farm, I still held them in my definition of who I was. The number of years that included time for me to spend in the woods couldn’t have been more than 15 at the most, for I certainly stopped before high school. The years when I did farm work can’t have been more than that, for my earliest experience — picking daffodils with my elder brother and sister — came at age five, and I left for college at 19.
&&&
April 30, 2007
The TGU concept that the guys used was my halfway house while I learned to communicate. It is still useful as I don’t need to confine myself only to those for whom I already have “story.”
There are several concepts that need to be digested.
One – No certainties. Avoid Psychic’s Disease.
Two – No predictions. All futures exist. In uncertainty is our freedom.
Three – A skill to be learned, like any other skill.
Four – Muddy footprints. You don’t need to know just what you are doing.
Five – You are not alone, and you are not what you think you are.
Six – Prepare for strife, “within” your self and therefore among “others.”
1) Your ruminations about being in the woods and the trees providing sacred space reminded me of the book “The Feminine Face of God.” The authors interviewed several hundred women about their notions of God and the sacred, and their primary experiences of the spiritual were outside, in and around trees, especially as children.
2) Your list is very helpful. Five and six are my favorites. Much thanks.
Great reminders. Thanks for sharing. The only one that does not resonate with me is #6. It seems to contradict that “all is well” but maybe I am mis-understanding its context for you. Overall though, a great listing (which I will now begin to practice digesting myself).
Consider your life. Surely it encompasses strife from time to time. “All is well” doesn’t mean “Everything is just the way we would like it to be,” it means that whatever is, is for a purpose and can be used. At least, that’s my understanding of it.