‘Be still and listen…’ said community co-founder Eileen Caddy. In the busy-ness of summer FHT’s Land Steward, Kajedo invites us to take a moment to rest in the sanctuary of nature.
‘Sometimes, when a bird cries out,
Or the wind sweeps through a tree,
Or a dog howls in a far-off farm,
I hold still and listen a long time…’
Hermann Hesse
These days, when our summery world seems so busy, it takes a conscious effort to do just that – to pause, be still, and ‘listen’.The first and foremost principle of permaculture encourages us, before jumping to the many tasks at hand, to ‘observe, observe, observe’. To stop and look, listen, feel…
A moment of ‘attunement’ before we start on our tasks is a token gesture towards that.
In my daily life as Land Steward of the Findhorn Hinterland Trust there are a few things which guide my work. Obviously we, as a charity, need to have a ‘management plan’ – the recently published ‘Biodiversity Action Plan’ – which tells us what we have on the land, and what we could or should do to improve it. And it gives us priorities, in terms of rarer species in need of protection.
However, that famous saying has a truth to it: “If you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans.” More often than not the forces of Nature guide the course of our actions – in extreme cases through fires or storms as we have seen on our land – or through the recent effects of climate change.
So what does it take to ‘be still, and listen’ in a busy, noisy world?
This time of the year there is just so much overwhelming our senses – the birdsongs, the buzz of insects, the many scents of the summer and the endless tasks demanding our attention. So it does take a conscious choice – an act of will and a dedication – to pause and ‘listen’.
Here, we spend around £1000 a year to pay experts to help us ‘see’. We commission surveys – the lichen survey was the first, followed by closer looks at fungi, mosses, spiders, bugs and so on – and we learn to look through the eyes of experts to see what we usually hardly notice. Magical!
Those of us who meditate might take it a step deeper:
‘My world turns and goes back to the place
Where, a thousand forgotten years ago,
The bird and the blowing wind
Were like me, and were my brothers.
My soul turns into a tree,
And an animal, and a cloud bank,
Then changed and odd it comes home
And asks me questions. What should I reply ?’
Hermann Hesse
The poem does not end with answers, it ends with a question. A question which leads us even deeper into the ‘listening mode’. And as we listen more and more deeply we keep discovering more and more of the magic of the tiny bit of Gaia which is in our care.
Alan Watson Featherstone’s macro photography reveals the wonders of the world of tiny things. Two years ago we undertook a massive operation to expand the habitat of creatures here that are near extinct – and which we did not know about until very recently – by extending the bare sand habitat of the ancient dunes.
And to be authentic, we have to apply the same principles to ourselves – as we are ‘nature’ too. Truly listening to our own deepest truth, truly listening to each other, in community. There is still a journey between looking at something, and really seeing it. From ‘listening’ to ‘hearing’, from ‘touching’ to ‘feeling what is really there’.
And while that journey keeps deepening, every small step towards ‘be still and listen’ helps. To slow down while immersed in the wild flow of a busy summer, to sit under a tree for a moment, clearing heart and mind and listening as best we can. Inviting the Earth, the world, to tell us the story in front of us. It has worked for me, time and time again.
These days it’s not just the usual seasonal business. If we follow world events it can be quite overwhelming. Noisy, violent, deeply disturbing. So many contradicting ‘truths’. All the more reason not to be drawn into quick reactions, but to dare to step out of the stream for a moment, climb on a rock, ‘go to sanctuary’, close our eyes and open our tender hearts, and listen… With attentive care…
To the deep songs beneath the violent waves at the top of the ocean. To the ageless wisdom of the earth.
Before we thrash about wildly, before we rush into the next job, before we cut down that tree, or judge that fellow human being.
When we have dared to listen with an open heart-mind – to gently ask: “How can I be of help to bring about the best and highest potential of this story?”, so that all we do may be for the highest and best of all of Gaia’s children. And future generations.
Blessed be, blessed be…
Kajedo Wanderer
FHT Land Steward