The Secrets of How the Earth Keeps Her Time - Working with the Medicine of Presence
BODIES OF LAND.
Welcome everyone to Issue #002 of Bodies of Land. It seems like the Earth has revolved many, many more times than what seems feasible from the first time Carolyn, Jonathan, and I met to discuss our intentions and tasks for completing the second issue of our micro-seasonal zine. Life has been what seems like a fire that has burned very quickly through the fabric of time - transporting us from the cold hibernation of winter into the throws of summer (perhaps if not in the weather, in our hearts), and yet for some of us (speaking for myself), I found my ability to write my contributions at somewhat of a standstill.
The Intentions of this Zine and Drawing Presence from the Present
As Jonthan speaks about in their essay, “Kingly Beast, Be Gentle and Be Strange”, there is somewhat of a juxtaposition between, perhaps the skills necessary to channel and forecast into the future vs. drawing from the wisdom of the present as a way of weaving threads that can be stretched forward in time.
I can’t speak for what the future issues of this zine will look like, or the processes that will take shape in creating them, but I can say (and affirm with Jonathan’s piece), that as hard as I tried last month to foresee the energies that might be present in what is now late May, I struggled connecting to plants I couldn’t touch with my bare hands, smell their fragrances, or soak in their energy to interpret their medicines and share them with all of you. The energy I was hoping to connect to seemed to be based on the energies of this time that I have experienced in the past - many seasons of watching and sitting with wild rose, yarrow, hawthorn, and many of the other plants that emerge here in the Pacific Northwest in late spring/early summer.
I wonder, is a good portion of clairvoyance and channeling the future truly just drawing from the past? And what happens when you are working actively to be in the present?
Working with the Medicine of Presence
A theme for me lately has been tuning into the deep wisdom of the forest, a space and place insulated from the world us humans orchestrate for ourselves. Weeks filled with schedules & calendars. Large numbers on the screens of our smartphones that we check habitually (such as 12:38 PM as I write now) that are intended to orient ourselves throughout our day which change each minute and hour yet hold no significance from one to the next. The sounds of trucks, freeways, and sounds of the city that permeate our external and internal spaces.
The pace of the human world ticks with each passing moment, rhythmically moving into the “future”, one second at a time.
When you find yourself deep in the forest, not only is the soundscape you are immersed within free of the sounds of urban life, but the forest and all of its inhabitants elude the clutches of Time as we know it from a human perspective itself - for all things are in a constant state of living and dying here. And yet, despite time in a modern sense not existing here where the moss grows rich and uninhibited, the birds whistle sweetly back and forth with one another through the branches, and so on… it does not necessarily mean that we are without an understanding of the cycles of the Earth, and where on the wheel of that cycle we sit.
Presence here, in this place of ferns and towering trees, holds the precious secret of how the Earth tells her Time.
It is without beginning nor ending. It is infinite timelines collapsing into singular, unmeasurably small moments. It is the timelines of plants from emergence, blossoming, fruiting, seeding, and dying. It is the timelines of single cell organisms devouring the flesh and bones of animals who lived their full life, and whose lives do not cease to exist even now, but perhaps take new shape and form.
For nature does not adhere strictly to the ways we humans also seek to make sense of its rhythms - with calendars that tell us when to plant our seeds, or when to expect particular mushrooms to fruit so that our journeys in harvesting them are fruitful, and so on. It is in using our human-as-animal faculties to carefully take in our surroundings, cultivating an understanding of the world around us and where in time She is. It is asking ourselves what are the qualities of the air: does it feel warm, is it moist, what are the nuances of smells? Or perhaps it is noticing all the plants and what stage of their life cycle they are in: Do morels come when Trillium’s flowers just emerge, or later as they dawn their luxuriously-hued fuchsia petals in preparation for the Gala of Late Spring and Summer?
It is here we can place ourselves, and it is here in which this zine hopes to place itself also.
Bodies of Land is not necessarily a guide to Late Spring & Early Summer as a fixed set of dates in proximity to the Pacific Northwest. This zine is a guide to wherever late spring & early summer is happening for you, whenever that is happening.
It is about connecting with universal energies and the rhythms of the Earth that are present in the spirit of these seasons as they slowly make their way across the continent, or across the world. Whether you read this today, 2 months from today, or in the dead of winter, it is our goal to make what is in here applicable.
A Practice of Reflection - Invitations to Pitterponder
What are the medicines of this time that can help support us in our Springs & Summers?
What does late spring & early summer look like in the place that you live?
What are the plants that emerge, what are their personalities and their energies?
What changes do you notice in the land itself - the prairies, the mountains, the sources of water, or even the sounds of birds in the trees that line the sidewalks?
What does late spring & early summer look like in your heart?
Is it in rhythm with the land you are geographically located in?
Is it on an orbital path that is determined by the phases of the moon?
