One with Nature/Like Losing a Limb

Wednesday and I've got to remember eggs in the alley. Once a month the farmer comes down from Wisconsin with a delivery of meat and eggs - I just get eggs, six dozen of them for the month. Said it before but it's kind of funny to score my eggs in an alley - pull up, money exchanged, goods exchanged. Closest I'll ever come to participating in a drug deal!!!

'S'fun to sit in my sunroom in the wee hours of the morning (I get up early) and watch the day break while sipping a great cup of coffee - loving the bones of the trees that grace the skyline of my view, watching the squirrels starting their day. And most days it's when I think of what to write here - a time to take stock, make plans for the day, indulge in a few tears (I still have those most every day). Do you carve out that kind of time for yourself or is your day "hop-to"? It's really my favorite time of the day, tears and all.

This morning I revisited a thought I've been developing - an outgrowth of what I experienced in the Landmark Advanced class where the light bulb went off for most of us that we are only as "good" as the collective. Doesn't mean you can't lead a productive, happy life if those around you are struggling, but there is no escaping our connections to each other, our families, our communities, our country, the planet and even the universe. It's not good enough to be a solo instrument in tune and playing well if the rest of the orchestra has lost its music, is out of tune, playing with broken instruments, off key. And it's not an altruistic thing to care for and nurture those beyond our immediate circles of concern - it's what's good for us.

Talked with Martin last night about what it is about sex that is so gratifying - it's something I've been mulling over lately. What is it that makes it an imperative for most of us? I don't think it's the release/orgasm - we can achieve that without a partner. These days I'm thinking it's the skin on skin. And it's not just because it feels good to be touched - there's something more. Is it possible that being with another person, blending your bodies is a way to feel, profoundly, oneness with the universe? I'm serious. I've quoted this Einstein quote before,

"A human being is a part of the whole, called by us "Universe," a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security.”

The idea that we experience ourselves as separate from each other, from the physical world is, I think, something we do in an attempt to create some sensible structure. But I also think at a subconscious level we know it's an artificial construct - one we persist in supporting because it keeps us grounded. 

We enter this world naked and boundary-less - babies understand themselves to be one with their mother - there is no meaningful demarcation between where their limbs or mouth ends and where their mother's flesh begins. Makes sense they freak when their mother leaves the room - like losing a limb. The rest of our lives we layer ourselves with clothing, attitudes, education, defenses that serve to further our discreetness - our separateness. At a deep level I think it creates unease and longing to shed it all, to peel back the layers, to lay under the stars naked and feel oneness again - that ancient feeling we spend a lifetime running from but longing for. 

There are hints that this is so. When people feel lost they often seek places to feel "one with nature." When we are kids, we rip off our clothes and run amok. When we go to the theater and the performance gets to the core of what it is to be human, we feel ourselves unmasked - vulnerable and exposed. And when we have sex, and we keep our eyes open, something magical happens - we lose, for a time, the feeling of separate. It is a cosmic experience. 

Why are there so few opportunities to shed the layers? Why do we guard ourselves so well? What the heck are we guarding anyway? At the risk of being branded a new-age hippie, I am going to look for opportunities to "strip".  If I sit and drink coffee with you, forget small talk - let's be verbally unclothed with each other. If I run into you at Whole Foods, I just might rub noses with you. 

Challenge today is thinking about this idea of separateness and getting your head around the idea that it's nothing more than a useful construct. You can put it on and take it off. Clearly we need the discipline of donning our layers each day and negotiating ourselves in the world as discrete beings. "Twould be weird to chuck it all, climb a tree and live on dew and acorns, at "one" with the tree. But how about looking for more opportunities to get "naked" and real?

Peace,

Sarah