|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From the Editor ~ John Davis
How often have we found gifts coming to us by accident - unexpected, unsolicited, even disguised? And how often this happens in wild nature and ceremony. A wrong turn leads to a new discovery, and we end up with far more than we had imagined we could receive as well as a great story. A surprise late spring snowstorm gave one of our wilderness trips last year an extra challenge, and the group came closer together than it ever would have in milder conditions. Coyote the Trickster is our companion on our trips to the wild, and we learn to look deeper into our surprises to see what unforeseen teachings they might hold.
Coyote the Mailman visited me a couple of months ago, delivering the neighbor's Newsweek to my door. Before passing it on, I took a look and found an article by the holistic wellness MD, Andrew Weil. His recipe for happiness (and antidote for the challenges of modern life) included a discussion of "nature deficit disorder" and the essential importance of time in nature. Of course, this doesn't come as news to us, but I felt excited that this ancient knowledge is finding renewal in an abundance of rigorous research, and that it's working its way into modern consciousness.
Of the several bare bones and core principles of the School's work, one of the most important is direct, immediate, raw contact with wild nature. We find it in our desert solos, in an afternoon's walk into a local open space, perhaps even in our backyards. I took this reminder - coming to me apparently by mistake - as a reminder to spend a little more time outside, and I will pass this encouragement on to you now. Step outside, breathe, let the wild touch you.
I wish to dedicate this issue of the Newsletter to ecotherapy for nature deficit disorder!
Warmly (on these mostly cold winter days),
John Davis
Editor's Note
This edition of the School of Lost Borders' Newsletter opens with heartfelt gratitude to Betsy Perluss for editing the newsletter the past few years. She has provided a beautiful and important service to the School and to the prospects for wilderness rites of passage in the modern world. As her commitment to the School continues in her guiding, we all sing a thank-you song to Betsy for her work on the newsletter.
|
|
|
|
|
Grandmother Nature ~ Steven Foster and Meredith Little
In every story, however, there is one constant - Grandmother Nature. She bestows her favors, her teachings, her moods on everyone, regardless of how they perceive her. Some are blinder than others. Some hear better than others. Some learn more quickly than others - but to all she imparts the same information. She covers them all with the same dirt, and she showers them all with the same rain. Her wisdom voice can be heard in hawk, chuckwalla, kit fox, rattlesnake, scarab beetle, magpie, coyote, tarantula, bighorn sheep, and painted lady butterfly. Her miracles bloom in the cactus, the creosote, the buckwheat, the spruce bush, the desert holly, the evening primrose, the bunch grass, the willow.
From Steven Foster and Meredith Little, The Roaring of the Sacred River: The Wilderness Quest for Vision and Self-Healing (Lost Borders Press).
|
Invitation to a Wilderness Rite of Passage ~ Will Scott
"The natural world is the larger sacred community to which we belong. To be alienated from this community is to become destitute in all that makes us human. To damage this community is to diminish our own existence. "
--Thomas Berry, The Dream of the Earth
I recently spent a day with my co-guide talking to high school seniors about a wilderness rites of passage opportunity. In the sterile classroom, it was not hard to put myself back into the mindset of life in a mainstream high school.
As we described the invitation, I noticed mixed expressions among the crowd, ranging from indifferent stares to concentrated curiosity. I also noticed something was stirring in the room, and I remembered the unlikely symphony of circumstances that had nudged me out the door onto my first wilderness experience when I was about their same age. That trip had been a lifesaver for me.
"The backpacking trip alone is a rite of passage," we told them, "and the solo time offers a chance to meet the wilderness in a way that many in today's society never will." I wondered which in the sea of faces I might perhaps come to know much better, should they choose to join.
Immersion in wilderness after a long absence (sometimes lifelong) can evoke a deep memory, like entering into a past we never knew we were a part of, but to which we undoubtedly belong. After some days of 'dropping in,' it can feel as if the whole of the wild world is echoing, calling us back into a conversation older than our oldest stories. Quietly, earnestly, and with a mysteriously light touch, the wilderness draws us out, ringing the bell of our essential humanness. As we sense the draw towards our own becoming, something inside cannot help but respond. "Wilderness is a leaderless teacher," says ecopsychologist Steven Harper. It offers a mirror that has always been there but into which many in today's fast-paced world may never consciously look. Awakening to the felt truth of our connection to the natural world can come as a shock. In this remembering we may find ourselves at once uncertain and uncomfortable, yet oddly at home and content.
Sitting under the halogen lights, with only minutes before the bell ferries them off to their next class, I wondered what alchemy might touch this mysterious possibility enough to ignite a wonder that will lead their feet to the threshold? Of course, no words could possibly do it. After all, we must each come to it in our own way. So I looked firmly and deeply into whichever eyes were willing to meet my own and said as much as I could in that way. My prayer is that the right ones will come - whether they were staring back or not.
|
|
Day 1 solo ~ Lynnea Brinkerhoff
Pieces strewn about right where God left them ...
We are invited now to circle around
Like a great hawk and swoop in to repair
The failing nest
It must be sturdy if we are to fly free from it
with a good push for take off
The nest hosts pieces of our lives, sometimes clumsily woven in
Sometimes elegant in the story they weave
Nonetheless, this is my nest
I shall work with God to repair it as a partner and steward of my own gift of life
And then when it is time, together we will fly
Each a wing on either side of the mystery
|
 Trusting the Ceremony? ~ Caiyloirch Marques I have been privileged to witness many people returning from the threshold, with that look in the eyes, that anyone who has engaged in this work will be intimately familiar with. In story council I have listened to many rich narratives, invariably expressing gratitude for this simple and humbling ceremony of communion with Self and land. Over the years, a few questions have continued to announce themselves each time I engage in this work. The first concerns the lasting effects of this work on our own identity. Specifically, does the experience of participating in a fast or passage rite inform our sense of who we are over the long term; to what extent is it integrated into our lives? The second has to do with exploring our relationship with the wider Earth community. Specifically, is this relationship deepened through the ceremony in a manner that influences a lasting ethic of care toward our environment? We lack the ongoing social reinforcement of identity that traditional passage rites offered through close-knit community. We also live in a culture where we have to make effort simply to live in a manner that minimizes harm to our biosphere and that enhances rather than obstructs global equality. How can contemporary passage rites provide ongoing support for these changes. I recently completed a dissertation exploring wilderness rites of passage as a model for contemporary outdoor education. My thesis suggested that such work could indeed provide an empowering opportunity for young people to meaningfully explore identity and a sense of belonging. Furthermore, when one experiences the natural world as refuge, as the fertile collaborator for insightful inquiry into one's identity and orientation in life, would this not then induce a sense of care toward the more-than-human world? The rather humbling conclusion of my inquiry is that, really, I don't know with any degree of certainty what the long-term fruits of this work are. However, it feels vitally important to keep asking these questions, even knowing there may be no definitive answer as to how this ceremony influences our lives and our world. I also recall with warmth, the times I have been invited to "trust the ceremony." In Zen, it is said there are three things that keep one on the path: great faith, great doubt and great perseverance. Sounds about right. Link to Caiyloirch's dissertation |
It's Not About Hope ~ by Emerald North
It's not about hope This day to day Wandering of feet. It's not about success or failure This breathing into and out of the body. It's not about anything I desire This skin so sensitive it becomes a doorway. Don't abandon yourself on the cliffs of confusion Remember who you are Right here In the bones of your feet |
Three Creeks Council Hut ~ Gigi Coyle Work on the council hut at Three Creeks continues through this spring. We have the roof left to complete, one last coat of earthen plaster on the inside, then the adobe floor. This dream was first inspired by the years of time Marlow and I spent in the New Mexico Banana Clan kiva, part of a spirit meeting-house network linking Hopi peoples and places. We, along with many others, then spent 12 years building a beautiful council house at The Ojai Foundation that many of you may have visited. And now, thanks to a team of wonderful young local hired-hands, 25 donors, 33 volunteers, and with SOLB as our sponsor, we have a cozy modest council hut, an earth-bag lodge, right here in the Owens Valley. We plan a small "Open Hut" celebration between March 20 and 22 and will inaugurate the space soon after with the Beyond Boundaries Reunion. We are so grateful to all who made this dream possible. And already we have invitations to help build huts and share council practice in other places near and far, including Kenya. When and if you are guiding a program for the School and would like to use the space for some ceremonial time, call and ask if it is available. We look forward to sharing it as the Great Turning is upon us. We continue to listen for ways to deepen our connection to all of nature, the nature of council through this practice, and the building of community within and without. We will also be joining with many others this year in a worldwide vision quest (Google: "World Nature Quest, June 5") and hope you will as well. We hold the field we co-create, through our quests and councils, as a form of activism. It is our contribution to the world in which we want to live. In Gratitude, Gigi, Win & Marlow Any donations made out to "SOLB-council hut" will help finish the roof! Video slide show of the building of the Council Hut |
The School of Lost Borders is a 501 (c)(3) non-profit organization committed to creating opportunities for people from all walks of life who seek ways to mark and celebrate the significant transitions in their lives. Solitude and silence in wild nature, the commitment to community, honoring of personal intent, and the acknowledgment and responsibility to bring forth one's gifts are the foundation of our ceremonies and teachings.
|
|
|
|
|
|
