The Yin-Yang of Life

A place of belonging is where the soul finds comfort. I refer to the belonging that is characterized by our connection to the earth, and our willingness to accept and negotiate everything that Nature offers, and teaches, in its full embrace of raw reality. John O’Donohue, the late Irish philosophical theologian expresses it eloquently in his book ETERNAL ECHOES, Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong:

“The more attentive you are, and the longer you remain in a landscape, the more you will be embraced by its presence. Though you may be completely alone there, you know that you are not on your own. In our relentless quest for human contact, we have forgotten the solace and friendship of Nature. It is interesting in the Irish language how the word for the elements and the word for desire is the same word: duil…Duil also holds the sense of expectation and hope.” [O’Donohue, 2000, p.52]

Poignantly obvious is the shattering of spirit wherever natural disasters, large scale industrial devastation, and also wars, have torn asunder the places of belonging of not just individual homes but – existentially worse – entire communities and land-based cultures of people, places that embodied their past, present and future.

I sometimes wonder whether it is the absence of a soulful connection to the world of Nature among the materially affluent, most particularly the economic power-holders, that results in so much lack of reverence, contamination of, and destruction to, the life-giving sources of the planet? For such deeds to be allowed, however, requires compliance.

The related questions, therefore, include: How does widespread compliance happen? Is it the consequence of urban lifestyles among large numbers of people, for whom the experience of a place of belonging is fleeting, if it exists at all? I refer both to those people who experience a visibly comfortable life, yet whose jobs and career paths uproot them frequently. Also included are immigrants, hardworking, often under-recognized and under-paid, struggling to survive and adapt to a new home, while grieving for the loss of a former place of belonging that may no longer exist.

Indeed, I recall the shock that reverberated through my body when a friend informed me that the family home where I grew up, and where my parents lived up to their final days, had been demolished soon after the sale. A ‘monster home’ had replaced it, indicative of the spreading phenomenon of monster homes in suburbs where neighbours no longer know each other, and the natural spaces of large backyards are disregarded and destroyed.

All I can say is that I give thanks every day for being able to experience the natural world directly, living immersed in it. I just have to open my door, and some days immediately am greeted by a rabbit or chipmunk scampering away, as well as unusual insects such as a praying mantis exploring my door frame.

Every day brings a new adventure of discovery of “all my relations” as Indigenous people significantly refer to our human interconnections with all other life forms on Earth.

All my relations, inevitably, include the raw and the messy. I soon discovered the necessity to negotiate co-existence with less desirable animals and insects, and do a lot of outdoor work, such as the chopping of noxious plants to make my farming neighbours happy. Being a good neighbour is essential for survival in the countryside.

A most important revelation, in fact, happened this past year. By working with my hands doing hard physical tasks, I have come to know my land base intimately. I now have a glimmer of the traditional Indigenous sacred compact with the land, based upon a profound sense of caring and responsibility.

The essence of a place of belonging, to sum up then, is to experientially come to understand and practice reciprocal caring and responsibility. Such knowing happens by taking care of our own plot of earth, with affection, once awakened to the appreciation that the earth and other elements, and all planetary species, take care of us, unconditionally, in so many ways.

Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind of day I mean, when Murphy shows up, uninvited, and stays for the whole day – the infamous Murphy of Murphy’s Law.

Such visitations call upon our resourcefulness, to determine which tools are best to apply in order to thwart being thwarted from what we are trying to accomplish. One survival tool, of course, is a sense of humour, for which my “inner comedienne” definitely is in my kit of self-preservation.

Another tool is the application of ‘beginner’s mind,’ a marvellous concept of Zen Buddhism. Several definitions can be found on the internet. My interpretation is that ‘beginner’s mind’ is indispensable when it comes to lighting a woodstove – nurturing it, sometimes relighting it, more nurturing…yes, a robust fire now is burning, but be attentive to not blow up the stove pipe or the chimney.

Although I trained in mindfulness meditation, I admittedly am truant in its traditional and recommended practice. However, as a city gal who chose to adapt to living in simplicity, pioneer style, mindfulness kicks in daily just so I don’t burn down the farmhouse.

Mindfulness means paying attention, being fully present, living in the moment instead of allowing your mind to cruise through time and space beyond what you contemplate directly in front of you. And, trust me, an awakened fire does focus the mind.

Beginner’s mind suits me perfectly. Despite my depth of knowledge in certain fields, I do not refer to myself as an expert in anything. The reason is, the more I learn reveals how much more there is to learn than is humanly possible in any single lifetime – and not limited to the content of books. For experiential learning is the key to connecting our mind with our body, emotions and spirit.

In lighting a woodstove, for example, no matter how many times you are successful, sometimes immediately and other times eventually, you never can conclude that now you know precisely how to do it well. Each and every event is new and different. Indeed, the maintenance of a lit fire is a true test for developing mindfulness. To keep it lit without going ballistic is a marvel, because doing so paradoxically requires “letting go of attachment to outcomes,” a Zen teaching.

Zen practice calls upon us to be present to the moment and embrace whatever happens in the process henceforth. That means doing so without descending from mindfulness into willfulness. The latter causes our personal will and ego to get so bent out of shape that we may even fantasize about what we might like to do with (or to) the fireside poker. Instead, given the reality that the poker’s iron will trump our will every time, again, it is much wiser to breathe deeply, and use the poker to nudge the fire materials gently, playfully, yet with concentration.

As an artist, I aesthetically enjoy scanning the cords of wood in my cellar, to choose just the right sizes and shapes that must lay together in harmony with the previously assembled materials. The first tasks though are to chop the kindling, tear up and scrunch newspapers to lay on top of the bed of ashes spread inside the stove, delicately build a multi-layered pile allowing spaces for oxygen to feed the fire, and open the draft. Later, manipulate the draft to quieten a fire that gets too frisky, while intermittently adding wood to keep a steady, healthy burn to avoid the buildup of creosote caused by a sputtering fire.

The constant flux of a wood fire is a metaphor for life and, moreover, for this particular historic moment in which change happens around us constantly yet, now, at an accelerated, more visible rate. Similar to working with a wood fire to ensure its life-giving properties are sustained, the Universe has presented us with a multi-layered challenge for sustaining life on our planet.

Keeping informed of planetary realities is imperative. But, do not give away your power to the power of the popular media bombarding us with doom and gloom. Each of us has innate creative intelligence to develop new ways of living on Earth. Our species can negotiate more harmonious interrelationships with our planetary life-support system. Tiny practices of mindfulness are first steps to awaken capabilities that develop confidence, remove fear and open us to a world of possibilities.

Nothing is more glorious than waking to a winter wonderland in the countryside. Ice and snow sparkle like jewels in the morning sunlight on the trees and bushes, the land blanketed with snow. Working at my desk, in a century-old farmhouse, I feel blessed in looking out a picture window onto a vista of Nature’s beauty and wealth, through all seasons.

For me, snow evokes purity, peacefulness and fond memories of a more innocent time, growing up in a new suburb in north Toronto, within sight of a farmer’s field where children skated on a pond. As a very small child, my loving father pulled me, bundled up like an Inuit toddler, for rides around the block on a tiny sled. Childhood was full of joy, in an era when children could be innocent and joyful, cocooned through the early years, and protected from the onslaught of the wider world’s countless troubles.

Among these happy memories were the summer holidays spent in the Haliburton Highlands on Lake Baptiste, fishing with my father, climbing trees and running in the fields with Fred and Ted, two boys who were my extended family, our parents very close friends. Since that magical time, I dreamed one day that I would find a home immersed in a natural setting.

Those were summers. This is showtime, whoops, snow time; but it’s the same difference. Opening the front door, what immediately is evident is the need for high boots and a snow shovel to be handy in the front hall. They become essential to step outside at all and, at times, dig a path all the way to my mailbox at the roadside. I so deeply appreciate the other times, when a friendly neighbour plows out knee-deep snow from my driveway.

Then, as well, there is the task of brushing the snow off my car, if I wish to travel. But, hey, this keeps a person physically fit. It sure beats going to the gym, particularly when traveling to a gym is not an option, if there were a gym to travel to. Well, you get my drift, and I don’t mean snow drifts.

However, I can regale you with `snow drift encounter’ stories. Take the example three years ago, a few days before Christmas. Driving home from a friend’s century-old schoolhouse where we both had been snowbound during a blizzard, I had a car accident which could have been fatal.

Note that I previously had experienced every kind of awful weather on the road – blinding rain accompanied by hail, white outs during snow squalls, and serious fog in which the world disappeared altogether. The day of my accident was sunny and the roads freshly plowed. Go figure!

My car must have hit black ice. First, it swung into a row of oncoming cars. Next, I too quickly turned the steering wheel to the right, and flew off the road into a field of deep snow drifts. The car rolled over and hit a hydro pole, caving in the roof. The latter I did not notice until I looked, with horror, at my car several hours later in a collision shop.

Earlier, back in the field, several folks had heaved my car right side up again. Only then could I open the door on my side – oblivious to the fact that glass had been shattered everywhere around me inside – without a scratch or a bruise on me. I concluded that Divine intervention enabled my survival, more so, uninjured. Unaware of being somewhat spaced out, however, I did wonder why the nice ambulance ladies insisted that they take me to a local hospital to rest, as I repeatedly informed them, “I feel fine, I feel fine,… .” Afterwards, I spent two weeks mostly sleeping, traveling nowhere, the most blissful Christmas of my entire life – filled with gratitude simply to be alive and whole.

Such is the yin yang of life. You never know what the next turn in the road will bring. Regardless, reflecting upon something to be grateful for every day can shore us up in this challenging time. This time of transition at every level of existence calls upon us, and offers so many possibilities, to create and participate in life-affirming changes.