Unfurnished

Filed Under from the heart, small happinesses, spiritual practice, uuism

At times I am aware of not having touched anything living in days. In the winter months, sometimes weeks will pass. Not a tree, not a flower, not an animal - not even the dirt outside my front door. Everything is cement, metal, plastic, carpet – or coated in several layers of polyurethane. The only thing I touch that comes from the earth is my food. Maybe this is why grocery shopping at Whole Foods or New Seasons is not only my favorite type of shopping, but an activity I rank among the most enjoyable. I spend the vast majority of time in the produce section, admiring the colors, shapes and variety. Life in those moments feels rich and abundant.

Towards the end of my favorite film, The Thin Red Line, the character of Welsh voices over, “If I never meet you in this life, let me feel the lack.” That is how I feel sometimes about the natural world: on a daily basis, it is missing. The Pacific Northwest is full of natural beauty and opportunities for outdoor recreation; and there are dozens of parks in this city. But I get so caught up in the quotidian movements of my life that sitting down on the ground, sticking my fingers in the soil - things I did so easily as a child - such desires are balled up and stuffed like garbage into the deepest pits of my soul.

But I can’t deny it. Sometimes I find myself waiting at the bus stop and - if the iPod isn’t doping me with tunes - I feel a compelling urge to put my hands on the lower bodies of the big elm trees. At first I hope no one is watching, but after a few minutes, I stop caring.

I need to take more time for things of this nature.

Today, Dan Harper wrote a thoughtful entry about observing sublimity in the landscapes where we live. After commenting on an essay about urban nature-life, he asks, “So what’s the role of liberal religion in reclaiming the sublimity of nature in our cities?” Well, as a humanist I believe in rationality, but as one who believes in the existence of spirit, I feel the lack when all I have in my life is controlled and plastic and straight edges.

There are days I forget I’m not just a person, but a living creature, too. I can convince myself that life is all about ideas and conversations – even relationships with other people. Yet despite this, I feel the lack. I need my religion to feed me more than words; I need it to push me out of doors – out of the doors of the church sometimes ….

(Photo by HSA: Smiling in the summertime; in the courtyard of All Souls Church of NYC. 2003)

Comments

4 Responses to “Unfurnished”

spotted elephant on February 26th, 2006 3:34 pm

Exactly! I think we do suffer withdrawal from the natural world.

I moved to the PNW (north of Seattle) one year ago. People always ask why, and seem shocked when I say that I’ve wanted to live in the PNW for a very long time due to the natural beauty of this region. I’ve been called treehugger several times, for my pro environmental views, and could never understand why that was a bad thing. So I relate to your need to be in and to touch living things, especially trees.
Anonymous on February 28th, 2006 10:00 pm

I always look forward to the weather warming up enough so I can tramp across the front yard in bare feet to check my flower beds– rather than groping around for shoes or slippers first. Like your tree-hugging, I always have that moment where I worry about the neighbors raising an eyebrow, but then the pleasure of having my skin touch a natural surface takes hold, and I forget to care what anyone thinks. –alsis39.5
Anardana on March 1st, 2006 9:11 pm

I’m a new reader. I just wanted to say hi!
LaReinaCobre on March 3rd, 2006 1:03 pm

Welcome, Anardana!

Spotted: I guess I am a tree hugger now, too. Funny how that is considered to be slightly derogative.

Alsis39.5: Yes, walking outside in bare feet - a must! Cannot wait for that.