Such descriptiveness, gives a glimpse of a feel of being in the place. As much as i love the natural world, in suburbia i have to remind myself about being in love with the land and consciously make effort to communicate with various beings because consciousness can get over-powered by the yard, fence, neighbor's houses, and more, so there isn't that sense of 'fall in love with the land' as when seeing a forest or whatever astounding habitat that immediately evokes deep feelings. Plus there's the 'this is my little patch to care for' mentality, which is nice that people care, but again what am trying to convey is how the compartmentalization of consciousness can lessen the natural impulse to simply love the land, so those feelings need nurturing, a kind of daily discipline. Yet also i realize how sad it is that even with such vast raw beauty as you describe, Max, so many humans are numb and choose to shape the environs to their preference because they can monetarily afford to; beauty and empathy are in the eye and feelings of the beholder. Best of luck in your new place, Max, which, as you know, is an old place from the natural world perspective.
Thanks Mankh. I hear you. I’ve lived in suburbs before, and it’s hard. I grew up in the city, and that was hard too. But parks saved my life. Sending all my best.
Quite the statement about parks, Max. And i sure wouldn't have guessed you grew up in city; i did too. And i've lived in the mountains and next to a forest and enjoyed both immensely yet b/c of personal and interpersonal struggles, situations in both places didn't work out, so then by the time i got to suburbia with a lovely fenced in yard, it was like, i gotta make a good life there's nowhere to run! ... and things started clicking in a good way and i learned to love the place and surroundings. So the 'moral' of this little story is that while many people wish they could live in ideal surroundings, that's not necessarily 'the answer', imho rather more so that 'the place' jibes with 'the work' one is doing, whether working on one's self, working with others, working for the greater good of Earth, and a place where the Mystery enables one to meet people one wouldn't expect to meet.
Thanks for sharing your old home Max! May the new one hold you well, though differently. Delighted to see you are also a maker of acorn pancakes! It is quite a process with leaching out the tannins but such a powerhouse of energy.
Thanks Julia! I appreciate you sharing your piece here as well. We love the acorns. It’s definitely a process, but it’s amazing to eat a meal that comes from right outside your door. And they taste great, of course. Sending my best.
Beautiful story! Much food for thought and nourishment for spirit. Your words brought me right into those places, provoking memories of the house I built in the midst of forests that were a powerful growing space for my children.
glorious writing as said below. Not sure how this contact came into my email... Maybe everyone here knows but i don't - why are you leaving that land, did-do you have "title" to it and what will happen to it now?? And where are you moving to?? And, this is Oregon, right? Thanks. from a Ute sanctuary forest mountain west of Boulder CO.
Thanks for the message Layana! I never “owned” that land, I was just renting. And had to move for some personal reasons that I won’t get into the details of, here. The land is staying with people who will treat it well (by basically not treating it at all), which is great. And I only moved a few miles away. Yes, this is in the southern Willamette Valley area of Oregon.
Wow, this is beautiful, Max! A tear is rolling down my cheek as I write this. You’ve captured so many ephemeral feelings here. The three years I spent living at Siesta with all of you (humans and non-humans) will always be remembered as some of the best years of my life. I miss the land often. My heart breaks with you about the neighbors - I don’t think I ever saw the finished boat barn - and breaks even more when I remember that it’s only a small version of what’s happening everywhere, all the time. Ok, there is definitely more than one tear rolling now. Thank you for sharing this. 💚✨
Aww, thanks Grace! I guess I did my job right. But I was really just channeling what the land teaches us, if we listen. Much love to you guys, see you soon! 💚
Thanks again, Max. What a moving story about moving (pun intended:)). But, really, a wonderful story about being fully present and paying attention in the places where we live, something I have been trying to be, off and on, hopefully with incrementally increasing successes, since 1970. I particularly enjoy your dream/vision of the trees growing through and eventually burying the asphalt, a dream I (and others) have shared for a long time now (partly inspired by Malvina Reynold's old song, "God Bless the Grass," besides just by living in the places where we have lived). The wild where we live is interrupted by a two-lane highway and a train track, and I have long dreamed of the day when all of the motorized traffic is forever gone.
This was glorious, Max. For a few minutes while I read this, I felt as though I lived there next to your meadow.
Thanks, Rebecca! That means a lot coming from you. Hope you’re well.
Such descriptiveness, gives a glimpse of a feel of being in the place. As much as i love the natural world, in suburbia i have to remind myself about being in love with the land and consciously make effort to communicate with various beings because consciousness can get over-powered by the yard, fence, neighbor's houses, and more, so there isn't that sense of 'fall in love with the land' as when seeing a forest or whatever astounding habitat that immediately evokes deep feelings. Plus there's the 'this is my little patch to care for' mentality, which is nice that people care, but again what am trying to convey is how the compartmentalization of consciousness can lessen the natural impulse to simply love the land, so those feelings need nurturing, a kind of daily discipline. Yet also i realize how sad it is that even with such vast raw beauty as you describe, Max, so many humans are numb and choose to shape the environs to their preference because they can monetarily afford to; beauty and empathy are in the eye and feelings of the beholder. Best of luck in your new place, Max, which, as you know, is an old place from the natural world perspective.
Thanks Mankh. I hear you. I’ve lived in suburbs before, and it’s hard. I grew up in the city, and that was hard too. But parks saved my life. Sending all my best.
Quite the statement about parks, Max. And i sure wouldn't have guessed you grew up in city; i did too. And i've lived in the mountains and next to a forest and enjoyed both immensely yet b/c of personal and interpersonal struggles, situations in both places didn't work out, so then by the time i got to suburbia with a lovely fenced in yard, it was like, i gotta make a good life there's nowhere to run! ... and things started clicking in a good way and i learned to love the place and surroundings. So the 'moral' of this little story is that while many people wish they could live in ideal surroundings, that's not necessarily 'the answer', imho rather more so that 'the place' jibes with 'the work' one is doing, whether working on one's self, working with others, working for the greater good of Earth, and a place where the Mystery enables one to meet people one wouldn't expect to meet.
Thanks for sharing your old home Max! May the new one hold you well, though differently. Delighted to see you are also a maker of acorn pancakes! It is quite a process with leaching out the tannins but such a powerhouse of energy.
Thanks Julia! I appreciate you sharing your piece here as well. We love the acorns. It’s definitely a process, but it’s amazing to eat a meal that comes from right outside your door. And they taste great, of course. Sending my best.
Beautiful story! Much food for thought and nourishment for spirit. Your words brought me right into those places, provoking memories of the house I built in the midst of forests that were a powerful growing space for my children.
Many thanks.
I’m glad it felt nourishing, Peter. That place certainly was for me.
such a love letter. thank you for sharing with us, Max. Wishing you great relationships in the place/s to come.
Thank you so much, midi!
glorious writing as said below. Not sure how this contact came into my email... Maybe everyone here knows but i don't - why are you leaving that land, did-do you have "title" to it and what will happen to it now?? And where are you moving to?? And, this is Oregon, right? Thanks. from a Ute sanctuary forest mountain west of Boulder CO.
Thanks for the message Layana! I never “owned” that land, I was just renting. And had to move for some personal reasons that I won’t get into the details of, here. The land is staying with people who will treat it well (by basically not treating it at all), which is great. And I only moved a few miles away. Yes, this is in the southern Willamette Valley area of Oregon.
Wow, this is beautiful, Max! A tear is rolling down my cheek as I write this. You’ve captured so many ephemeral feelings here. The three years I spent living at Siesta with all of you (humans and non-humans) will always be remembered as some of the best years of my life. I miss the land often. My heart breaks with you about the neighbors - I don’t think I ever saw the finished boat barn - and breaks even more when I remember that it’s only a small version of what’s happening everywhere, all the time. Ok, there is definitely more than one tear rolling now. Thank you for sharing this. 💚✨
Aww, thanks Grace! I guess I did my job right. But I was really just channeling what the land teaches us, if we listen. Much love to you guys, see you soon! 💚
Thank you. You are inspiring!
Thanks so much for the kind words, Lucy.
Thanks again, Max. What a moving story about moving (pun intended:)). But, really, a wonderful story about being fully present and paying attention in the places where we live, something I have been trying to be, off and on, hopefully with incrementally increasing successes, since 1970. I particularly enjoy your dream/vision of the trees growing through and eventually burying the asphalt, a dream I (and others) have shared for a long time now (partly inspired by Malvina Reynold's old song, "God Bless the Grass," besides just by living in the places where we have lived). The wild where we live is interrupted by a two-lane highway and a train track, and I have long dreamed of the day when all of the motorized traffic is forever gone.
Thanks for sharing that, George. Yes, that image floats through my head regularly. Sending all my best.
Beautiful story, than you so much!
You’re welcome, Zane!
Thank you so much for this. It makes me feel less alone in what I’m doing.
I’m glad, Superball. Thank you.
From my perch to yours,
thank you, Max,
i love you, Max.
🌱🌿💚🌿🌱
Thanks for the kind works Katharine!