Doors Wide Open

Follow the light

Photo by Julia Caesar on Unsplash

We are all living in cages with the door wide open.

- George Lucas.

1. There are birds you gauge your life by.

During the months my mother lay dying, I started watching birds. I would open her window to listen and when I heard a bird sound, I looked out at her feeders, and using the Merlin app, identified the birds that alighted in my field of vision.

One by one, I made a list of birds that visited my mother why say lay dying.

Later, as I was cleaning up my mother’s body, and then later, her belongings, and even later, while I sat with my father in his grief, helping him move into a senior residence which was devoid of her remnants, I had less discipline. In those gray days, I would force myself to go out in the evenings for a moment of air, and I would look for my mother’s favorite birds, hoping to recognize her spirit in one of them. But all I could see was the dying light.

So I made a ritual of that. I made a ritual of going out to watch the dying of the light and look for birds. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, or who to spend time with, so I just showed up, in all my beautiful mess, and identified the herons and mockingbirds and whip-poor-wills and owls I could see as the sun went down.

Connecting to the birds in those lonely evenings connected me to myself. Sitting with bird after bird, day after day, as the days turned into nights, showed me the wonder of transformation.

When I showed up regularly, observing whatever birds that showed up that day, eventually, I found that whatever showed up was enough, and I welcomed whatever birds flew by, until I began to accept whatever came to me, in whatever form it took.

2. Connecting in nature

Our urban expansion has paved over the earth, asphalted our roads, chased away our wildlife, and landscaped our housing communities and public parks. Industrialized cultures separate and disconnect us from the natural world, and from ourselves.

While we struggle to connect with others when we’re disconnected from ourselves, we can practice connection with nature. Watching the rising or setting of the sun, sitting with the transformation of day to night or night to day, watching what comes out in these changing spaces, and the birds that fly in and out of the light, can produce feelings of smallness, and of awe.

Nature renews itself in cycles.

As do we.

Any encounter with the natural world, whether walking on the grass barefoot, watering a plant, hugging a tree, or connecting with a bird, offers an unspoken invitation to connect with a vastness that surpasses our individual selves. This connection can be found in any facet of the natural world. 

3. Building in nature

Where my mother and I come from, we spoke to each other in scripture. As in all high-control groups, certain books and verses were quoted more frequently than others. One of the most common in my family of origin was Proverbs 14:12 - There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.

In our insular community, we were taught to trust the leader, not ourselves.

But looking back, I’ve discovered that chapter 14 of Proverbs actually starts with this line: Every wise woman buildeth her house.

As with nature, all interpretations change with time. The verses I learned as a child speak differently to me now.

Watching birds, where they fly, where they land, where they attach and survive and thrive, teaches us what it means to live in a world of change.

We can take what we need, and leave the rest behind.

This week, we put the roof shingles on

4. Opportunity for paid subscribers (or anyone who upgrades to an annual subscription by December 1, 2024).

The tiny, tiny cottage in the middle of the forest is rising and will be finished this fall, and I’d like to invite one of you to spend a night there, alone in the forest.

All annual subscribers will be included in a drawing for a free night in the cottage. Founding members will also be offered a hosted dinner in a nearby cabin, with me. Drawing will take place on December 1, and the winning subscriber will be contacted via email on December 2. You will be able to choose/schedule your own date any time in 2025, and will receive concrete details and directions (the cottage is in southern California, about 90 minutes northeast of Los Angeles, not accessible by Google maps). If you decline, or only want to come for dinner, I will offer the cottage to another subscriber. With the winner’s permission, I’ll announce their name in an email to all participants in the drawing. I will also offer the winner the opportunity for a guest post, to showcase what they learned from their night in the forest.

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What has changed in this season of your life?

I’d love to hear about your experience with nature and change. Please share in the comments below!

I work hard to rewild myself, so that my work smells of wildness. The wildness comes, if I am lucky, in the form of a touch of genius, a gushing flow of creativity, a lush animation, and a fierce energy. I am not saying that I always get there, only that I keep trying. In ecology, rewilding means rebuilding diversity and abundance. In life, rewilding means:

grounding

reconnecting with the song-lines and the energies of the earth

reconnecting ourselves with the energies of each other, strange as they can be

regularly discharging the energies of the internet

decolonizing the Western mind and becoming native to place again

~Janisse Ray

Amandalynn’s exhibition Medicine opens December 13 in San Francisco.

Thank you for reading Forager Fridays — your support allows me to keep doing this work.

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Thank you for being on this journey with me. I am grateful for the gift of your presence. Walking this path, knowing so many of you are walking it too, gives me hope. May we continue in our recovery, in relationship with one another and the anima mundi, supporting each other’s growth, like a mycelial network. If you’d like to continue this conversation in person, consider enrolling in my small group writing workshop at The Maloof.

Today is the last chance to sign up for the Maloof workshop, or gift it to a friend! Respond to this email if you have any questions.

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