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Saturday swim

September 29, 2018
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I had thought to write an inspiring caption for th I had thought to write an inspiring caption for this short film of yesterday’s beautiful wild encounter (swipe left). I took off clothes, swam naked and free, but sometimes I find it hard to write with joy when there’s so much misery in the world. I read the words of a man who worked in an industrial pig farm and the disgusting ways he abused innocent animals just because he could exercise some power. I then felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that this single action is just one grain of sand on the desolate beach of our existence and had a visceral reaction, my ears rang heavy and loud, my body coursed with heat, I wanted to vomit. Then I had to remember that he probably goes home to his wife and is a great dad and friend. People are multi-layered and most of us are traumatised by this world - nobody acts in this way otherwise. When my spiritual awakening first hit, it was a tsunami flattening all the nonsense structures I’d built to maintain my Self, all the internal walls that separated this soul from nature; it meant there was no escaping the knowledge that We Are One. This understanding is something I continue to struggle with today - how can this be so? How can these atrocities occur and I am connected, I am part of it all? The shadow self is enough to contend with, but humanity’s shadow is monstrous. When I feel this way I walk, or swim, or cycle outdoors, and nature reminds me yes, We Are One, and that is also the soft water cradling my ageing body, and that is the family of oystercatchers squeaking protectively on the nearby shore, and that is the light from a raging star gently warming my face, and sometimes that just has to be enough. #natureismychurch #interspecieslove #natureheals #anintentionallife
Learning to not just appreciate, but to fully imme Learning to not just appreciate, but to fully immerse in the joy of simple things. Fresh local strawberries with good coffee before going for an outdoor swim. A pretty roadside park-up with 4G signal - I’ll be honest, there was a stack of litter here (around the ‘please take your litter home’ sign 😳) so Andy did a quick pickup to create this splendid view. The land thrums with summer energy, a crow calls, my feet walk. #createyourlife #slowlivingactivism #homeiswhereyouparkit #theroadismyhome #buylesslivemore #natureismychurch #traveller
When I’m away from people the world makes sense. When I’m away from people the world makes sense. I can walk or cycle these rolling hills with a glorious heartfull of belonging. Every atom of this beautiful earth is deeply sacred so that I can simply exist in these spaces and just breathe. Still, the need to connect, to understand and be understood is a deeply human attribute that I also possess. People give me intense anxiety, but I’m learning to work with it, to slowly feel my way into being involved only with things that bring my heart joy. I’ve also discovered the self-knowledge to accept that if I don’t understand what’s being said or how certain social circles work, then it’s not that I’m lacking, but that those spaces or conversations aren’t for me, and I’m very much okay with that these days. I look out across this life on the road and know that I don’t need other people to understand it, but it is important that other people accept it, because when I look to nature she teaches that diversity is key, that we need many different people living and dreaming a vibrant ecosystem into being. Each of us are pioneers, discovering the unique truth of our place in the wonder of this world. #theroadismyhome #buylesslivemore #slowlivingactivism #vanlife #nomadiclife #natureismychurch
It’s occurring to me why Suzanne Simard’s Find It’s occurring to me why Suzanne Simard’s Finding the Mother Tree has struck such a chord in my heart. Yesterday I remembered this poem written over a decade ago (first poem in the Prophecy: conversations with my Self pamphlet, from 2010, available as free download from my webshop, link in bio). What Simard is writing about, I knew all those years ago. Well, I didn’t have the understanding that Simard writes of because I’m not a scientist, I’m a poet, but Andy and I had begun mountain biking a lot back then and many of the mtb trails snaked through commercial or working forests. Every time we visited these types of forests I couldn’t escape the feeling that the trees were somehow lost, that they didn’t know the truth of themselves, and that this was caused by their being planted in this way. Like children left alone with no one to teach them anything about being human. I knew this because there was a stark contrast to the ways in which more natural trees, woodlands and forests would feel and communicate. I didn’t really know how to put this into words, so I wrote poems, because this is how I see the world. Text reads: for the trees there was a place she visited once with forests that s t r e t c h e d planted regimented ruled and when she spoke the trees did not know her and when she spoke with the voice of the mountain the trees did not know themselves and she raged and mountains wept for the soulless trees #treesarelife #treelover #slowlivingactivism #interspeciesfriendship #interspecieslove #interspeciescommunication #treestreestrees
Continuing from yesterday’s blog about Finding t Continuing from yesterday’s blog about Finding the Mother Tree, I was reminded of this photo I took a few days ago when we were riding the mtb trails at Drumlanrig Castle (as an aside there’s a cheeky little old-skool 8-ball black run there that’s a lot of fun when added to the red route with challenging off-camber rooty descents and super-skinny trail, but it’s also totally knackering for exactly those same reasons and I needed a couple of days off to recover). As we cycled through the logged area, I was aware of the many older beech trees still standing between the stacks of logs, and in other places, small hills of soil with a seedling pine sprouting out the pinnacle. I suppose I still felt sad at our industrialisation of life, but this scene is so much more beautiful than the clear-cuts I’ve been witnessing across north Wales and other parts of these Scottish borderlands. I was reminded of Simard’s book because I realised the deep importance of the new lens she has painstakingly crafted so that we can view the forests and our interactions with them anew. I felt like I was watching her work unfold in real-time from across the ocean and held a deep appreciation for whoever does the logging here at Drumlanrig for their forward-thinking approach. Imagine if all logging sites looked like this – what a joy that would be. Finally - I suppose I continue to feel frustrated that the truth about trees many of us hold in our hearts isn’t considered proper or correct until science has decreed it so, even if that means years of ridiculous and unnecessary practices while we wait for the established scientific thinking to catch up. #treearelife #treespirit #treehugger #findingthemothertree #slowlivingactivism #ʜᴏᴍᴇɪsᴡʜᴇʀᴇʏᴏᴜᴘᴀʀᴋɪᴛ
I’ve been raving about Finding the Mother Tree b I’ve been raving about Finding the Mother Tree by Suzanne Simard to friends for a while now so wanted to share some thoughts on this occasional review section of the OUTSIDER blog. Some elements of this book are difficult to read, especially explicit detailing of scientific experiments made in commercial forests through the spraying of toxic glyphosate herbicides designed to kill off all other plants who might be ‘stealing’ nutrients from trees marked for harvest. Simard writes, “I stared at my feet because both of us crying would hurt too much. These plants were my allies, not my enemies. I raced over the reasons for doing this to justify them in my mind. I wanted to learn to do an experiment. I wanted to be a forest detective. This was for the greater good, for ultimately saving the seedlings. I would have proof that this [herbicide spraying] was a stupid practice and be able to tell the government to investigate other avenues for helping seedlings to grow.” This is a book about trees, but also one woman’s absolute determination to change the traditional paradigm of scientific understanding on the connectedness within forests. I found this entire story utterly inspirational, even in the face of established scientists and government agencies (all men) mansplaining her supposed errors, she continued speaking and gathering information from outside the patriarchal, colonialist narrative, “The Coast Salish people think trees have a personhood too. They teach that the forest is made of many nations living side by side in peace, each contributing to this earth … [they] say that the trees also teach about their symbiotic nature.” This is a beautiful herstory of tenacity of spirit and a deep connection to the trees, but also about being a wife and mother and balancing that with the passion for her work, and coping with life-threatening illness. I felt deeply emotional when reading, perhaps also because learning of Suzanne made me resolve to be more outspoken about my connection with trees – there’s a comfort in knowing so many of us are out there, sharing the unique and powerful ways in which trees speak to us. Photo is with 300yr old sycamore 🌳
Been thinking of this older poem lately. It’s fr Been thinking of this older poem lately. It’s from the Prophecy: conversations with my Self, pamphlet. Available now as free download from my webshop. Text reads: On knowledge to speak simply is to think simply is to be simple: clarity to speak with complexity is to think with complexity is to be complex: foggy empty minds perceive vastness imagine the greatness of the universe hear the voices of the trees... #poetlife #treesarelife #interspeciesfriendship #interspeciescommunication #knowyourself #slowlivingactivism #simplelife
This amazing mama turned twenty five yesterday. He This amazing mama turned twenty five yesterday. Here’s my daughter Rhi, with her daughter Hilda. So much love for this woman for having the strength to walk her own path. My heart is so big with love. Ancestry is the strangest thing - something I’ve always considered as being on the receiving end of, not the one who is the actual ancestor 😂. It’s the most bizarre and wonderful experience that maybe stretches your vision quite a bit, like a grandma superpower. So much love for you Rhi. I’m immensely proud of everything you’ve achieved. 💗 #daughter #daughterlove #ancestors #ancestry #matrilineal #grandma #family #middleyears #feminist #homeschoolmom
Long summer evenings are light as butterfly wings. Long summer evenings are light as butterfly wings. Even late in the day, the sun rides high in an impossibly blue sky. The trees here do not know me, but there is time, and the will to bring my open heart so that a dialogue might begin. I’ve had difficult first meetings with some trees (Ae forest) but then in later days had some of the most spiritual experiences of my life in those very same places. Those of us who know better are doing better and that’s what matters. No thing is irreparable if the intention is right, if enough care is given. The trails here in the Scottish borderlands are unbelievably quiet and we wonder out loud why north Wales had become so busy and yet these almost identical lands feel practically deserted. We hike and bike these rolling hills, thoughts spilling out across landscapes, and grin at the utter magnificence of it all, the joyful simplicity of a perfect day. #buylesslivemore #treesarelife #slowlivingactivism #homeiswhereyouparkit #traveller
Dyma’r siop ffrwythau a llysiau yn Dumfries lle Dyma’r siop ffrwythau a llysiau yn Dumfries lle mae bobl yn siarad Cymraeg (mae’r dyn yn dod o Ynys Môn). Rili anhygoel i sgwrs efo nhw! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 No only did I get to practice my (horribly rusty) Cymraeg in this local shop in Dumfries, we bought a heap of delicious fruit and veg. Happy days. #shoplocal #siaradcymraeg #slowfood #homeiswhereyouparkit #slowlivingactivism
Visiting some forests is the most difficult thing. Visiting some forests is the most difficult thing. Over a decade ago we rode through Ae forest and it was the first time I felt a genuine hatred from the trees towards humans. It’s not something I’d experienced before and it horrified me, that we’d farmed these beautiful beings to the point that they felt this way towards us. Part of the promise I made to myself with this OUTSIDER blog was that I’d speak honestly about my experiences. Part of the promise I made to the trees was that I’d speak openly about my connection with them. Both of these things remain a work in progress because so much of the self needs to be understood and revealed in order to reach a place of absolute integrity. There are two voices from a forest: the individual one of each tree that you can go and sit and communicate with; there’s also what I’d call the meta, or communal, voice. This is the collective thought of the forest as a whole and is what I’m referencing whenever I say ‘the trees said...’ So I will tell you that here at Kirroughtree the trees feels only a great and overwhelming indifference to us, and this is heartbreaking. Yesterday, riding our bikes through these rolling hills I saw so many stripes of trees growing in formation or bare brown Earth where they’re being ‘harvested’. And the trees don’t even hate us anymore, they’re just so blankly indifferent as they stand quietly mourning their kin. And I realise it’s not enough for us to be saving the old trees (although this has to happen), or to be buying less stuff (although this also is deeply important), they don’t want our sorrow, or grief, we need to actively go into the forests and connect with them, talk to them, share stories and poems and songs out loud so that they can know us again, know that we love every single one of them, not just the 400yr old trees, but the scraggy-looking one clinging to a rocky outcrop, the ‘non-native ones’ (I hate that term), the babies, the stragglers, the needly underbrush, the ones marked for harvest, or squatting at the edges of lakes. All of these living beings deserve so much more than our greedy indifference. Everything is deserving of love. #treesarelife #treelover
This hound. I am dead. 🖤 #sighthound #scottish This hound. I am dead. 🖤 #sighthound #scottishdeerhound #lurcherxdeerhound #adoptdontshop #vanhound #rescuedog #olddog
... in the afternoon we pull up at a roadside sea- ... in the afternoon we pull up at a roadside sea-loch lay-by, snooze in short grasses, watch the tide retreat, eat sandwiches, do the New Yorker crossword to the fuzzy-high squeaks of oystercatchers and the low-hum-drone of cars. No elaborate plans are executed or dreamed as the waters begin their slow return, only that later we will have tea with jammy crumpets, and maybe another nap. #slowlivingactivism #vandweller #homeiswhereyouparkit #buylesslivemore #restisresistance #anticaptialist #yourproductivitydoesnotdefineyourworth
Has anybody else ever been in a conversation where Has anybody else ever been in a conversation where the other person makes a statement so outlandish, so utterly ridiculous, that you don’t even bother to argue? That if you have to explain something so basic as their bullshit then they’re probably not even going to recognise how base their words are. Not just that, but later you discover that, because you didn’t make a counter-argument, they’ve taken this lack of a challenge as your agreement. I find this astonishing, and yet more close-minded people seem to be walking this narrow conversational path, perhaps because they can’t conceive of being wrong, or even worse, because they want to misrepresent you. I find this kind of gossip fascinating, the way it’s created and disseminated, and I suppose the most interesting element is that it can only survive when there’s willing recipients, other people happy to share the bullshit instead of calling it out, or at least letting it die right there on the floor at their feet. I’m not sure what made me write this today. Maybe someone needs to hear it. Maybe I just needed to write it. I suppose this is another element of novel writing for me, exploring our communications, how they function, both individually and collectively, and the ways in which some people still bond through gossip or trading the words of others instead of sharing their own unique ideas. The Madness of Sara Mansfield, the first book in The MthR Trilogy, available from my webshop - link in bio. Text: He gives you a vague and yet impenetrable look. You stare straight at him, ignorant and blank and pause to examine Bart’s words, which, as it turns out, weren’t a question, more of a statement for you to agree with. You have no opinion on whether or not Sara and Nneka are plotting an intellectual coup in Mont Blanc. It all feels so irrelevant when you hear this very mountain speaking. This isn’t something you can explain to Bart, so instead you try to figure out what he wants from this exchange: more codes, more trapdoors, more keys and cages. You are dull in the face of such elaborate and exciting people. #amwriting #themadnessofsaramansfield #themthrtrilogy #author #storyteller #wordsarepower
We woke in a glorious bird-song-filled forest this We woke in a glorious bird-song-filled forest this morning but there wasn’t any 4G so, after a walk, drove about 1km to get in range - this is the truth of a mobile life. Any life can be portrayed as idyllic through these curious squares, but the reality tends to be somewhere closer to the mundane that we care to admit. I suppose what matters is creating the life that best fits your personality, your flow, and way of being in the world. Before that, of course, you have to know who you are, which tends to be the difficult part; and then it’s also about allowing yourself to change. I’m reminded of the words of Heidi Priebe: to love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be (swipe to end for full quote that I pulled from the net). I love these words because, for me, they’re also about the long-term love we need to cultivate for ourselves. It’s taken forty-five years but finally (after burning many funeral pyres) I feel in my groove, my work is coming together exactly as I envisage, and this means I’m slowly, but authentically, connecting with the people who resonate beautifully. It also means that I can sit with this pretty office view enjoying the sunshine, using the 4G, while accepting that the lorries going past are also going to be part of this day (swipe left 😂). But I’ll be on my bike in the forest this evening, and that’s the payoff. I’d love to know what’s yours? #buylesslivemore #homeiswhereyouparkit #vandweller #middleyears #officeview #anintentionallife #lifeisart
Give me filthy-faced grandchildren slurping fat ch Give me filthy-faced grandchildren slurping fat cherries with thick dirt slicked beneath fingernails. Give me time spooling generously out across a long summer evening of push-bike races & hen chases & lazy hounds’s sleepy faces. Give me bowls of fragrant lemon & fresh coriander rice, earth-dark kidney beans spiced with the stomach-deep-warmth of cumin & paprika; lip-smacking bursts of tiny-fresh tomatoes with diced, sharp-tongued red onion & a bright cider vinegar tumbled into bowls along with juicy-sweet pan-charred peppers demanding to be dunked in glorious, thick, lemony guacamole. Give me the subtlety to welcome each of these moments with gratitude. Give me the heart to embrace each day of creation with unselfish intention & love. #family #grandson #homeiswheretheheartis #lifeisart #middleyears #foodislife #familytime #grandma
Following on from yesterday - a poem on connecting Following on from yesterday - a poem on connecting with summer trees. There’s a winter tree connection poem also up on the OUTSIDER blog - both are in The Slow-Time Traveller poetry pamphlet (link in bio). #treesarelife #poetlife #slowlivingactivism #ecopoetry
On quitting yoga: It’s the strangest thing, find On quitting yoga: It’s the strangest thing, finding your way in the world, & I’ve written before about the many circular or dead-end paths encountered on this journey of self-discovery. During early sessions of studying Kung Fu (in my late 20s), I couldn’t get my head around the feeling I was a blackboard being wiped clean in order for a new text to be written across me. I didn’t then have the self-knowing to understand this was not the kind of teaching I needed. Yoga has been a different, gentler, path because, after going to various classes, I chose self-directed learning. But still there was this feeling that yoga was pulling me into myself & out of connection with the natural world. When we were in Spain I finished a yoga session then sat in the yellow dust looking out across farmlands, listening to the pigs squealing in the barn below. I moved to sit with a tree for comfort. The tree told me to go back & do yoga. I felt puzzled, but did so. Still that exchange remains with me, because it felt like a rebuff rather than supportive direction. I spent yesterday with the first trees, the first forest, I fully connected with. I pee’d in two different places - this is one of the ways in which trees can know us - & returned to thinking about why I’ve followed intuition to quit yoga (& meditation). I can only speak from my experience, I can only tell you what is right for this being called Sophie, but yoga feels very much a source of wisdom and knowledge created in a time and place not of now. Now I need to allow heart & mind to weave into the forest, seep down into the earth, or precipitate like water; I need the wisdom of the trees to write itself into my very bones and I can’t do that when another school of thought is, like a murmuration of starlings, already residing there shouting its name over & over. I’ve written in the past about being apprenticed to the trees, that I am working to hear & translate their wisdom so that it roots through every word I write, every breath taken, but, like the growth of a forest, it’s a slow, lengthy, circular process of allowing the ecosystem of the internal landscape to be rewilded, and that means clearing space.
Just thinking out loud this morning... Is anybod Just thinking out loud this morning... Is anybody else having their worst bout of hayfeaver in years? Looking through my Instagram I’d say I’m not alone. This is my ‘feeling deeply sorry for myself’ face 😭 Not really sure what’s triggered it this time around - the only new thing invited into my body was the Covid vaccine (I’ve only had the first jab). I’ve seen people online saying that hayfeaver symptoms can be Covid, but I’m not convinced because antihistamines (which I’ve had to take by the bucketload for the first time in years) do alleviate symptoms. Don’t get me wrong - I’d still rather have hayfeaver than be a Covid spreader, and I’ll definitely be getting my second jab, but I’d be interested to know if there’s any correlation between the two? #listeningtomybody #thinkingoutloud #hayfeaver
I felt thoroughly sick riding past this yesterday. I felt thoroughly sick riding past this yesterday. Listening to that machine chew through all this life just so we can devour more stuff. It forced me to think about a couple of things - firstly the technology that allows our massive consumption as a species. I’m not saying we shouldn’t use wood-based products, that is part of the cycle of life, but what really struck me is how much wood ends up in recycling or landfill when what we should have been asking is ‘do I even need this product?’ in the first place. What care and attention does that machine show to these trees? It just gobbles them whole and spits out giant toothpicks. Do we really need massive houses (or even worse second houses), do we need that new kitchen/bathroom/wood floor? Can’t we just gratefully, and gracefully, take only what is enough? Which feeds into my second thought yesterday and that’s the boom of ebikes. They’re everywhere. I totally get that they have a place in our lives - my uncle has about eleven stents in his veins and can only still get out on his bike because he knows the battery will get him home if he gets in a pickle. It’s a new lease of life for him. This is technology at its finest. Yesterday (and yes I’m being contentious) I get overtaken by a group of lads at least ten years younger than me on ebikes. What is the point? If you’re not fit enough to ride the route then the bike ain’t gonna help you on the descents. Also you’re gonna get around that trail in half the time - which means you’ve literally reduced your outdoor enjoyment. So many people wearing the most expensive kit on thousands of pounds worth of bike whose riding abilities are highly suspect. In this case technology just seems to fill in the gaps so people don’t have to learn the skills, but at least they ‘look the part’. I understand everything’s a double-edged-sword, and that to create is to bring something into this world with the capacity to both restore and dismantle, it just feels like we’re freewheeling through the fallout of S T U F F, with no clear skills developed as to how to navigate a thoughtful way forward. #buylesslivemore #slowlivingactivism #treesarelife
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