Beautiful essay, Jason. Quietly starting, quietly ending. Love and compassion might be seen as forms of illumination that our spirits shine out onto the world in all its astounding variety of beautiful forms. Your essay is such a ray it seems to me.
It is pre dawn as I write this, sitting in my living room with my morning coffee. I hear a chorus of birds singing and communicating with each other and with the Earth.
My avian friends are sitting in a tree right outside my house, about 5 metres (15 ft) from my front door. Soon I will go out and lay down some seed for them and some nuts for my squirrel friends. I will then, as I do every morning, sit in my chair and take it all in.
I live in the city of Toronto, a most urban of cities. Yet, Nature is here with me; and I am with Nature.
I love how WBL infused jazz into a conversation about trees.
I especially love this paragraph;
“I’m thinking of the spirals of conch and sunflower, the tessellations of a honeycomb, the riverine meander of an asp, and above all the branching forms of plants.”
If Albert Einstein is telling me I have two choices, then I choose this one,
“The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
Winter is my favorite season of the year. I have skied the backcountry wilderness in the elevations of Vermont for many years. We climb for hours just to ski a pristine mountain pass. The ascent ,the constant rhythmic motion of one foot in front of the other. Skies sliding ever upward in their sounds of ‘hush’. The quiet of the forest surrounds , giving the perfect opportunity to witness the beauty of trees. My favorite are the Birch. Naked without leaves, every inch revealed. I’m in awe of bark and branch. The elders of the forest , old or long past, are a sight to behold. Gnarled and sculpted with time. I think we both can go on and on about trees.
Thanks so much, Lor. Winter is always astonishing, isn't it? It feels like the pedestal the other seasons stand on. And the quiet feels like coming home.
Really appreciate your close reading of my work. Thank you.
I found myself getting lost in deep time reading this piece ... I just watched a new PBS special on how Pangaea split apart and ushered in a massive shift in world ecosystems and follow-on mass extinctions. The deep time question sometimes puts human activity into perspective as a blip, perhaps negligible in the overall stream of time, but on the other hand, perhaps as significant as the breakup of a supercontinent in terms of our impact on fellow beings. I've been exploring geological time perspectives, and have next on my to-read list Otherlands by Thomas Halliday, which promises to be a "journey through Earth's extinct worlds," so, biological deep-time, I guess. Anyway, I do know that however our legacy shakes out in several hundred million years, we are having a catastrophic impact on those who are here with us, now. Thanks for a thought-provoking piece.
Thank you, Rebecca. Deep time is a wonderful place to be lost... I loved my Intro to Geology textbook in college. Very comforting amid all this noise and horror. And it's all around if you know how to look, right? I think I've written about this, but the paleontologist/writer Stephen Jay Gould spoke at my college graduation, telling us that the idea of "saving the Earth" (as environmentalists phrased it back then) was silly, since the planet will be just fine even if we nuke it. It is, he said, all about saving life in its current form, which has nurtured our species, etc. Anyway, if it isn't on your reading list, I recommend Peter Brannen's The Ends of the World, which is a smartly-written survey of previous mass extinctions, with some good contextualizing of where we are now on that path.
I have had that book for a couple of years. I started it, then things got so busy at work I had to put it down, and it got buried. Just dug it out and will be starting it again on your recommendation. Thanks!
Oh, wanted to share a thought you triggered with your beautiful connection of jazz with the growth of trees in the world. Dovetail this with Alan Watts philosophy when speaking of the "meaning" of life. You can find these on YouTube videos of his talks. He relates, wlhat is the meaning of a song. A dance. He crushes the analogy of, it's about the journey. No, it's not! ll The meaning isn't to get to the end of the song. There is no end point. Just enjoy the music, the dance. As I get older I find myself observing the smallest beauties of nature and almost being crushed by the impossibility of it and realizing regardless of all the horrible things about life, the pains, losses and cruelties, that it's worth it just to hear a beautiful bird song or watch a video of cats pushing shit off of shelves! (The true purpose of the internet) I ramble. Thanks again
That's lovely, Michael, thank you. We talk about the accumulation of wisdom as we age, but I think you're pointing to a better description: the accumulation of empathy. I used to tell my students (high school boys in an alternative school) that the highest form of intelligence was compassion/empathy, but it's a hard message for the young to understand its full scope. The level of empathy you're talking about here, the sense that the beauty of the living world is everything, needs to be as common as smartphones, but we don't seem to be heading that direction on most days...
Ayana Elizabeth Johnson's interview complements your work: compelling, beautiful yet stark and truthful. You both suggest we roll up our sleeves. Absolutely, yes. And her emphasis on the first "r" meaning to reduce consumption...that we get that so wrong and her refrain of: "what if we get it right?" Impressive that Marchese was so challenged, that he returned to her question ~ what is it that you don't want to give up? Robin Wall Kimmerer held his feet to the fire, as well.
Recently, a rare tornado touched down on our little mountain town. No lives were lost unless we count the 300 year old grandmother Oak, and the other nonhuman beings who were sacrificed because we live too large for the planet. Sadly, we know but don't acknowledge that our "rare" tornado will not be rare. Still, we get on airplanes. Still, we are not stunned that the Town Council meetings are more about supporting tourism. Janisse Ray(Trackless Wild here on Substack.) says that story is the way to change culture. Thank you for your contribution to telling the story.🌱
I love plants and especially trees (obviously, I call myself a dryad), and I’ve planted our entire yard with trees, shrubs, and wildflowers native to the place I live. Endlessly beautiful and fascinating allies who support the life of the planet.
My favorite quote about the miraculous is from Thich Nhat Hahn:
“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”
Thanks for all this, Carmine, and thank you for planting all those native plants. If we all did that, we'd be helping to protect and prolong the miracle...
Beautiful essay, Jason. Quietly starting, quietly ending. Love and compassion might be seen as forms of illumination that our spirits shine out onto the world in all its astounding variety of beautiful forms. Your essay is such a ray it seems to me.
Thank you, Michael. That's beautifully said. Compassion as illumination, indeed.
It is pre dawn as I write this, sitting in my living room with my morning coffee. I hear a chorus of birds singing and communicating with each other and with the Earth.
My avian friends are sitting in a tree right outside my house, about 5 metres (15 ft) from my front door. Soon I will go out and lay down some seed for them and some nuts for my squirrel friends. I will then, as I do every morning, sit in my chair and take it all in.
I live in the city of Toronto, a most urban of cities. Yet, Nature is here with me; and I am with Nature.
Thank you, Perry, for inviting the real world in, and for inviting us to see it too. May all your mornings be so lovely.
Most are; thank you.
So much to comment on, it’s hard to choose.
I love how WBL infused jazz into a conversation about trees.
I especially love this paragraph;
“I’m thinking of the spirals of conch and sunflower, the tessellations of a honeycomb, the riverine meander of an asp, and above all the branching forms of plants.”
If Albert Einstein is telling me I have two choices, then I choose this one,
“The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
Winter is my favorite season of the year. I have skied the backcountry wilderness in the elevations of Vermont for many years. We climb for hours just to ski a pristine mountain pass. The ascent ,the constant rhythmic motion of one foot in front of the other. Skies sliding ever upward in their sounds of ‘hush’. The quiet of the forest surrounds , giving the perfect opportunity to witness the beauty of trees. My favorite are the Birch. Naked without leaves, every inch revealed. I’m in awe of bark and branch. The elders of the forest , old or long past, are a sight to behold. Gnarled and sculpted with time. I think we both can go on and on about trees.
It’s a wonderfully written post , Jason.
Thanks so much, Lor. Winter is always astonishing, isn't it? It feels like the pedestal the other seasons stand on. And the quiet feels like coming home.
Really appreciate your close reading of my work. Thank you.
Thank you Jason. So much richness and love here.
I found myself getting lost in deep time reading this piece ... I just watched a new PBS special on how Pangaea split apart and ushered in a massive shift in world ecosystems and follow-on mass extinctions. The deep time question sometimes puts human activity into perspective as a blip, perhaps negligible in the overall stream of time, but on the other hand, perhaps as significant as the breakup of a supercontinent in terms of our impact on fellow beings. I've been exploring geological time perspectives, and have next on my to-read list Otherlands by Thomas Halliday, which promises to be a "journey through Earth's extinct worlds," so, biological deep-time, I guess. Anyway, I do know that however our legacy shakes out in several hundred million years, we are having a catastrophic impact on those who are here with us, now. Thanks for a thought-provoking piece.
Thank you, Rebecca. Deep time is a wonderful place to be lost... I loved my Intro to Geology textbook in college. Very comforting amid all this noise and horror. And it's all around if you know how to look, right? I think I've written about this, but the paleontologist/writer Stephen Jay Gould spoke at my college graduation, telling us that the idea of "saving the Earth" (as environmentalists phrased it back then) was silly, since the planet will be just fine even if we nuke it. It is, he said, all about saving life in its current form, which has nurtured our species, etc. Anyway, if it isn't on your reading list, I recommend Peter Brannen's The Ends of the World, which is a smartly-written survey of previous mass extinctions, with some good contextualizing of where we are now on that path.
I have had that book for a couple of years. I started it, then things got so busy at work I had to put it down, and it got buried. Just dug it out and will be starting it again on your recommendation. Thanks!
Oh! And thanks for linking the directory. :)
Of course. It's such a great thing you've done. Thank you.
Oh, wanted to share a thought you triggered with your beautiful connection of jazz with the growth of trees in the world. Dovetail this with Alan Watts philosophy when speaking of the "meaning" of life. You can find these on YouTube videos of his talks. He relates, wlhat is the meaning of a song. A dance. He crushes the analogy of, it's about the journey. No, it's not! ll The meaning isn't to get to the end of the song. There is no end point. Just enjoy the music, the dance. As I get older I find myself observing the smallest beauties of nature and almost being crushed by the impossibility of it and realizing regardless of all the horrible things about life, the pains, losses and cruelties, that it's worth it just to hear a beautiful bird song or watch a video of cats pushing shit off of shelves! (The true purpose of the internet) I ramble. Thanks again
That's lovely, Michael, thank you. We talk about the accumulation of wisdom as we age, but I think you're pointing to a better description: the accumulation of empathy. I used to tell my students (high school boys in an alternative school) that the highest form of intelligence was compassion/empathy, but it's a hard message for the young to understand its full scope. The level of empathy you're talking about here, the sense that the beauty of the living world is everything, needs to be as common as smartphones, but we don't seem to be heading that direction on most days...
I appreciate your writing and ideas. Thanks!
Jason, thank you, always.
Ayana Elizabeth Johnson's interview complements your work: compelling, beautiful yet stark and truthful. You both suggest we roll up our sleeves. Absolutely, yes. And her emphasis on the first "r" meaning to reduce consumption...that we get that so wrong and her refrain of: "what if we get it right?" Impressive that Marchese was so challenged, that he returned to her question ~ what is it that you don't want to give up? Robin Wall Kimmerer held his feet to the fire, as well.
Recently, a rare tornado touched down on our little mountain town. No lives were lost unless we count the 300 year old grandmother Oak, and the other nonhuman beings who were sacrificed because we live too large for the planet. Sadly, we know but don't acknowledge that our "rare" tornado will not be rare. Still, we get on airplanes. Still, we are not stunned that the Town Council meetings are more about supporting tourism. Janisse Ray(Trackless Wild here on Substack.) says that story is the way to change culture. Thank you for your contribution to telling the story.🌱
I love plants and especially trees (obviously, I call myself a dryad), and I’ve planted our entire yard with trees, shrubs, and wildflowers native to the place I live. Endlessly beautiful and fascinating allies who support the life of the planet.
My favorite quote about the miraculous is from Thich Nhat Hahn:
“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”
Thanks for all this, Carmine, and thank you for planting all those native plants. If we all did that, we'd be helping to protect and prolong the miracle...