Posted in Change, Climate collapse, Earth, Garden, Gifts, Gratitude, How to love the world, In these strange times, Into the Wilderness, Love, Photography, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, Thresholds, Virginia, Walking & Wandering

In the presence of everything

Sunrise clouds

Silence is not the absence of something but the presence of everything . . . It is the presence of time, undisturbed. It can be felt within the chest. Silence nurtures our nature, our human nature, and lets us know who we are. Left with a more receptive mind and a more attuned ear, we become better listeners not only to nature but to each other. Silence can be carried like embers from a fire. Silence can be found, and silence can find you. Silence can be lost and also recovered. But silence cannot be imagined, although most people think so. To experience the soul-swelling wonder of silence, you must hear it.

~ Gordon Hempton in ONE SQUARE INCH OF SILENCE

Continue reading “In the presence of everything”

Posted in Spring

Where have all the rabbits gone?

Fallen. (Quail Hollow State Park, Ohio)

Live in each season as it passes… Breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each. Be blown on by all the winds. Open all your pores and bathe in all the tides of Nature, in all her streams and oceans, at all seasons. Grow green with spring, yellow and ripe with autumn. Drink of each season’s influence as a vial.

~ Henry David Thoreau

I have sometimes questioned my devotion to the minutiae of the seasons—what a boring story they might make, an anti-narrative. How quaint to write the date every summer when I see the first passionflower blooming in the field. How out of proportion to the news of the day. But when I read Thoreau, I am validated in my own impulse to write about the seasons. Taking note of seasonal events is a practice that can catalyze us to experience them more fully, to drink and taste them. It is a way to sear them more deeply into our skin, blaze them into our eyes and hearts. My journals extend off the page, on my many walks, my hands full of fruit and forage, my pores open; I am blown on by all the winds, resigned to the influences. The swells of subtle emotion that the seasons conjure in us as they pass again each time contain within them all the spirals of our seasons past, the hopes of seasons to come. I suppose this is also to say, if it is not clear by now, that phenology is to me not just record-keeping but a kind of scripture. In this repetition and refrain, a single season gathers our memories and dreams as we add new layers of meaning to our lives—as we orbit the very meaning of being alive.

~ Holly Haworth, from “A Circling Story” in Emergence Magazine

Continue reading “Where have all the rabbits gone?”

Posted in A bit of history, Aging, Air, Cats, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Garden, Gifts, Gratitude, Grief, Heartfulness, Home, How to love the world, In these strange times, Life, Love, Maryland, Ohio, Photography, Quotes, Sky, Spirit, Spring, The Bogs, Walking & Wandering, Weather, Wonder, Words

Omnivagant

Going back in time. (Izzy, 2012)

omnivagant: poetic & rare adj.  wandering everywhere or anywhere; Spanish vagabunda roaming

inscape: the unique inner nature or essence of a person or thing, esp. as expressed in poetry or other arts; the landscape of an indoor area

~ from “Epic English Words,” by Robin Devoe

Continue reading “Omnivagant”

Posted in Air, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Garden, Gifts, Gratitude, Grief, Heartfulness, Home, How to love the world, In these strange times, Life, Love, Maryland, Nature, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, Wonder, Words

Circumbendibus and other words

Round and round the spider goes.

“Circumbendibus” means an indirect or roundabout way or process, often used humorously. It’s a mock-Latin term, combining “circum” (round about) and “bend” with the Latin plural ending “-ibus”. Essentially, it’s a synonym for circumlocution, a way of speaking or writing in a complicated, indirect manner.

— AI overview of the word

circumbendibus:  in a roundabout way; an indirect manner of traveling, speaking, or writing; circumlocution

— Robin Devoe, Epic English Words

Continue reading “Circumbendibus and other words”

Posted in Air, Beach, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Gifts, Gratitude, Grief, Heartfulness, Hiking, How to love the world, In these strange times, Life, Love, Maryland, Nature, On the mountain, Pennsylvania, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, Travel, Virginia, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, Wonder

A Wednesday wander: There and back again

My first trillium.

For we live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; and our time should be counted in the throbs of our hearts as we love and help, learn and strive, and make from our own talents whatever can increase the stock of the world’s good.

― A.C. Grayling, The Good Book: A Secular Bible

Continue reading “A Wednesday wander: There and back again”

Posted in Air, Beginnings, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Garden, Gifts, Gratitude, Grief, Heartfulness, Hiking, Home, How to love the world, In these strange times, Love, Maryland, Nature, Pennsylvania, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, Walking & Wandering, Water, Wonder, Woods

Rebellion or resistance?

Neworking

We need a different strategy—one that doesn’t just burn, but smolders, spreads, takes root. One that knows endurance is its own kind of rebellion.

Soft Rebellion is the mycelial strategy of weaving beneath the surface, unsettling rigid structures with slow, persistent entanglement. It does not meet violence with a mirrored fist but with the supple intelligence of the willow, bending just enough to redirect the force and send it spiraling elsewhere. Soft Rebellion is the way water carves stone—not through brute force but through patient insistence, through intimate knowledge of the cracks, through the whisper of time.

Its strategies are those of the trickster, the lover, the root and the reed. It listens before it moves, feeling into the hidden weaknesses of oppressive systems, understanding that no empire, no ideology, no monolith is without its fractures. It knows that control is a brittle thing, and that softness—fluid, adaptable, decentralized—is far harder to extinguish than steel.

Soft rebellion moves through stories, through the slow embroidery of alternative worlds into the fabric of the present. It cultivates beauty in places of despair, weaving small sanctuaries of aliveness that offer refuge and reimagine what is possible. It disrupts through delight, through care, through humor that turns the blade of power back on itself. It does not fight on the battlefield chosen by the oppressor; it shifts the ground beneath their feet.

To rebel softly is to refuse to be reduced. It is to remain tender in a world that would harden you, to insist on connection where division is sown. It is to plant seeds in the ruins, knowing that even in the shadow of collapse, life finds a way to creep through the cracks and bloom.

Soft rebellion is the mycelial antidote to the brittle, crumbling monolith of power. In the face of a slow-moving coup—where democracy is gutted in broad daylight, where fear is the chosen currency of control—soft rebellion does not play by the rules of the oppressor. It moves beneath, between, beyond. It resists not with brute force, but with the cunning of ecosystems, the resilience of roots breaking concrete.

Soft rebellion understands that the systems tightening their grip on power want us exhausted, divided, reactive. It knows that despair is an instrument of control, that urgency is often a trap. So instead, it cultivates deep, embodied resistance—rebellion that does not just fight against but builds towards.

~ Shannon Willis, Soft Rebellion

Continue reading “Rebellion or resistance?”

Posted in Air, Beginnings, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Gifts, Grandparenthood, Gratitude, Grief, Heartfulness, How to love the world, In these strange times, Life, Love, Maryland, Nature, Ohio, On the mountain, Pennsylvania, Photography, Play, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, Travel, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, Wonder, Woods

How to love the world: Spring edition

Subtle greening, the day before leaving the island to visit family.

Enumerating the gifts you’ve received creates a sense of abundance, the knowing that you already have what you need. Recognizing “enoughness” is a radical act in an economy that is always urging us to consume more…. Ecopsychologists have shown that the practice of gratitude puts brakes on hyper-consumption. The relationships nurtured by gift thinking diminish our sense of scarcity and want. In that climate of sufficiency, our hunger for more abates and we take only what we need, in respect for the generosity of the giver…

If our first response to the receipt of gifts is gratitude, then our second is reciprocity: to give a gift in return. What could I give these plants in return for their generosity? I could return the gift with a direct response, like weeding or bringing water or offering a song of thanks that sends appreciation out on the wind. I could make habitat for the solitary bees that fertilized those fruits. Or maybe I could take indirect action, like donating to my local land trust so that more habitat for the gift givers will be saved, speaking at a public hearing on land use, or making art that invites others into the web of reciprocity. I could reduce my carbon footprint, vote on the side of healthy land, advocate for farmland preservation, change my diet, hang my laundry in the sunshine. We live in a time when every choice matters.

~ Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World (Scribner, 2024), 11–12, 13–14

Continue reading “How to love the world: Spring edition”