Connections

Having read Tyson Yunkaporta's "Sand Talk", upon recommendation by Rune Rasmussen, the topic of connection has been at the forefront of my mind for quite some time now.

I take after my father and his father. While they were both very affable, they both enjoyed their alone time. Their favourite method of getting away from it all (including the rest of the family) was to spend all day gardening. Time alone tending to what was their pride and joy was their favourite method of relaxing and getting away from it all. I, too, enjoy my alone time practicing baguazhang on my own. My brother is similarly minded, too - his escape is found through carp fishing. I guess it is a family trait.

That said, connection to my wider family has always been important to me - that is one way in which I differ from the other males in the family. My late mother was eldest of ten children and my childhood weekends were spent at my Nannie's home, with sometimes as many as a dozen adults and associated children all spending the day together in one small house. That obviously stayed with me as I managed to score some valuable family brownie points by taking time to speak with all my aunts and uncles at our wedding reception.

Still, though, I'm stuck between that need to connect to wider family and wanting some alone time. Families are noisy and boisterous and can be demanding - which is part of the fun, I guess. The best part of me has been distilled from the crucible of familial interaction. Interactions with friends were a whole different kettle of fish for me - less wholesome, more self-destructive. Friendships have been just as valuable, though in a different way.

Similarly, connection to nature for me has been influenced by my childhood. I grew up in a very rural part of the already rural Lincolnshire. My childhood home was set in the midst of a large garden (just under one acre). To my youthful mind, nature was all around me and part of everything I did. As a consequence, perhaps, I don't quite have the same views as most other people. A lot of other people seem to post online about hiking up abc hill to connect with nature, or visiting xyz forest to talk to the gods. For me, the gods are just as close when I'm sitting in my armchair watching tv as they are when I'm hiking up Rivington Pike. Having said that, gods seem to be less important to me than most other people. For me, ancestors and wights play a larger role in my heathenry than do gods of the aesir or vanir. After all, ancestors and wights seem closer to me somehow. Ancestors share my family bonds and wights are in the same physical location as me. Gods and goddesses seem somehow more distant in comparison.

I love getting out into nature/away from the suburbs as much as anyone. But I can't help wondering why people feel that they need to go somewhere else to feel a part of nature? Just cos our species built things like cities and houses to make our lives easier, doesn't mean we stopped being part of nature. Sure, our connection to nature is in a ropier state than it has been for some time - but that is more down to capitalism's belligerent attitude toward the environment that has seeped into our own understanding. Why are termites in their city-like mounds a part of nature, yet our cities aren't. How come mammals and birds using tools is a part of nature, but our using more complex tools is not? How is a bee working for the collective of the hive a part of nature, but my working for the collective of an insurance company is not?

I'm trying to rewire my understand to one that recognises I am always a part of, indeed in the midst of, nature and use that understanding to improve my connection to nature and the wider world in general (family included - as they are a part of nature, too).

Nature, family, friends, ancestors, wights, gods and myself - all reciprocally connected. That is the goal.