Friends In High Places

I struggle to make friends. I am a loner at heart. It's not that I am not open to having friendships. It's just that when you focus your life on an area of inquiry that often calls for you to work with complex spiritual and psychological material and you've dedicated yourself to the process of authentic inquiry, it makes small talk really challenging.

There's a contract with solitude built into the life I have chosen.

I am happy to report I have a new friend.

I met him a couple of months ago.

I am hard on myself, ridiculously hard. We all are. My friend is making me feel better about myself. He reminds me of what I am competent at, how my heart is open, the ways in which I communicate, and how my family have always seen that friendship knows no bounds and we all need allies.

I spend a lot of my time paying attention to things that appear not to register with other people.

I watch. I listen and then I carefully consider the right thing to do in accordance with the truth. Not man-made truth, but universal authentic truth. Typically at this point, I feel immense sadness and a substantial amount of embarrassment that the species I have been born into largely doesn't have the manners to acknowledge or treat those we share this realm with respectfully or with kinship.

We are, after all, related in terms of shared ancestors, if you travel far back in time far enough. We are the life that this planet produced, which links my friend at a level that goes beyond what we're taught about the biology of now. I am more interested in biology produced over aeons.

Authentic truth has no container; it is irrefutable.

There is a layer of activity that we are all embedded within. This comprises all the life that surrounds us: plants, birds, insects – all of it.

I pay a great deal of attention to this activity. Through an active act of listening and witnessing how things are going, what is happening, and how it is taking place.

I do this all the time – as I go to pick up my kids, when I work outside or as I travel through the village. I watch and listen to those I share space and time with, in my home and in my village. I take note of where they like to be, and what is communicated in the sounds they make. I pay particular attention to how they react or are affected by intrusions into the space we both share. I consider how I would feel if treated in the manner I am witnessing, and I feel empathy because growing up taught me that those in power believe they can treat you however they like.

And over time, I have become aware enough to know when important things are happening or about to happen in the landscape we share.

Do You See It?

I view the context of the world through their eyes, rather than mine. I have empathy for how they experience a world that is deeply impacted by the mundane day-to-day activities of humans. It's easy to see how corporations' actions have a profound impact on the natural world. It's harder to dive deep into the minutia of our lives to see how we are perceived from the perspective of the sentient life we share air with.

Now, I am aware this might be an extreme view to many others. We don't have time to see the world through our families' eyes, let alone from the perspective of life we appear to have no connection to. This is especially true as we are encouraged to view the world from the perspective of humankind from the moment we are born to the moment we die. This is largely why we're in the mess we're currently in.

Do we only want to befriend the animals or plants that capitalism tells us we can own? That we purchase and treat as if they are a form of slave friend? There's another way, it's hard and more interesting, and it's possible to develop a friendship based on something deeper and more profound.

Would you like to attempt to befriend the wild animal from a shared space of acknowledgement of the journey we undertake together, as sentient beings, grown forth from the same planet?

I watched a documentary about a diver slowly building a friendship with an octopus with a mixture of incredulity and disappointment. I know this film was made from a good place, but it just seems so obvious that we should be attempting to build these forms of connections with all the life we come into contact with.

What you need to engage at this depth level is attention, time, love, and kinship.

I am good at this, for one simple reason: I take all of the attention and focus that I could be wasting and misplaced on obsessing about human activities such as football, sport, or politics, and I give it all to the deserving. If attention is a form of currency, I am not spending it on the areas of human endeavour that are designed to keep us busy focusing on tribe-based activities that make us feel like we belong, when the truth is we don't. I support a different form of tribe. It's larger and far stranger, and it's comprised of all the working, living, and breathing parts that make up the biosphere of the landscape that I directly engage with every day of my life.

The animals and plants and insects that I share my life with, ask for nothing from me, but to exist.

I am always connected to the knowledge that humankind is in a grand deficit of karmic debt in relation to the other members of the family of life we are part of here on Earth, and that means I feel shame and I take ownership of my part in that debt and I attempt to offer love and kindness to build relationships across DNA and language time.

My friend hurt his leg. I don't know how and I don't know when. He hurt it badly.

I first noticed when he was on top of the roof opposite, and he hopped from one spot to another on his claws. He couldn't put his leg down at all.

I noticed that he was aware of the times I throw out the bits of cat food that my cats won't eat, onto the lawn. Typically I was doing this at night for another friend and ally, a fox that I've been feeding for a number of years.

I began to put extra out during the day when I noticed him waiting. I put half a fresh sachet of cat food down on my lawn and called to him and his partner/friend. At first, he didn't trust me; it took a great deal of time and a consistent approach. Days became weeks, and weeks became months.

He needed to learn that I was committed and I would always immediately feed him if I saw him. Even when I was busy. I stop what I am doing. I did this respectfully and I made sure he saw me taking all of my cats inside. I get my cat in, to make sure he feels safe and so he recognizes me over time.

I notice when he's there and when he's not there, and I put more food out, hoping the meat will help his leg heal.

And it worked; this appears to be the case, as he's only limping now and not holding his leg completely off the ground. Slowly the protein has made his leg stronger.

I wonder if this practice was what first set others who do the work I do. If our outsider nature put us in the perfect position to build these forms of bonds with other species, to witness them and build connections where none once existed.

I consider if this is how other indigenous cultures interacted with the life that surrounded them. Then I remember that life has always been a resource and that this is just wishful thinking; the truth is somewhere in between.

I am not sharing this to show how much I love animals; I am sharing this because I have witnessed others treat animals they claim to love with disdain and as if they are lesser beings. They are not. The systems we are part of require us to view the world and the animals that are part of it as either commodities or, worse, irrelevant. To be noticed or killed or ignored.

How many times have you witnessed a friend or family member push a pet off a bed or couch to sit down in that spot? Imagine and pay attention to this from the perspective of the cat or dog. What must it feel like to be treated in such a fashion, where comfort or choice was not given to those we view as property? How is this not emotional slavery?

Beyond anything, it's rude, and the spirit allies of that animal notice.

What if we made space for all manner of strange connections in our lives and minds and imagined more deeply and with nuance and wonder?

Tuesday, August 15th, 8:38 AM

My friend calls to me from the rooftop across the road. It's a direct and loud call, telling me he's there, and I get the cats in and feed him. He lands, and I take more photos.

His leg is getting stronger each day.

This is the essence of magic: witnessing, listening, responding, and aiding the natural world. Becoming its ally. It's magic in practice. My eternal landscape is being refreshed and revitalized by these forms of connections. I am grateful to my friend for the simple bond we share.

I am increasingly aware that we are required to take responsibility for our encounters with wonder and beauty. It is not enough to say we are open to this form of connection; we are called to tend to wonder wherever we find it. We need to protect each encounter. It's not enough to find fleeting moments of meaning; we need to provide commitment, and over time, the mystery we are embedded within will open and flower into bright gifts that sustain the light of this world from this moment into eternity.

John

Ora Et Labora