What does the moral code of idealism look like?

[Lou Gold]

To me that sounds boring.

Not so here at all, as that source of all I-ness manifests as a seeming infinitude of unique and diverse lifeforms, one of which is the delightful song sparrow that for several days in a row now has been trying to start up a springtime affair with a pseudo-soulmate reflected in the illusory woodland of the basement windowpane, leaving me pondering what its identity might be, apart from that source.

Or, that nowadays the nature documentaries watched by billions are in fact presenting a faked nature.

[Lou Gold]

Shu,

Synchronously, the following appeared in my email after your songbird post:

As birds herald the onset of spring, Gavin Van Horn seeks reprieve from the thinking mind and its tireless encounters with dread and worry. He wonders what to keep close amid these anxious times.

KIN YOU KEEP
by Gavin Van Horn

The Robin, the Blackbird, ululate about tree placement and their place in it. Male Blackbirds are everywhere showing off their epaulets, puffing out their chest feathers. ‘Tis the season of bravado and such. Robins seem not to read the news, their tweets have more substance than ours, if not urgency. If they panic, it is for a moment—a Red-tailed Hawk, a dog off the leash. Subsiding, they shimmy their feathers back in place, offer a single huff as commentary, get back to living. Urgent needs start them chattering again. We could all use more singing.

My head does the wash. It’s undefended at night and things slip in and tumble until the light paints trapezoids on the ceiling. I do counting exercises, breathwork, wish I was a Zen Master. I bet Zen Masters don’t wish to be Zen Masters, they let go and become them, like Blackbird trilling and the sky that holds all of life’s urgent cries. The Zen Master is the caterpillar slurped into a Robin throat, also the Regal Fritillary who bursts a chrysalis and dances honey into the air. I know nothing. Only that we are Mystery and I grow more and more suspicious of my attempts to explain.

The Robin, the Blackbird, will sing inconsolably, inconsiderately, when the dread is worst, they will sing when it is coming, when it is here, when it passes. They are oceanic in their care, like the tides, they don’t give two fucks whether the stores sold out of toilet paper, like the tides, their songs are a tender mercy of Mystery.

There are only a few singing stones, a few pieces of sea glass from the tides, to carry with you. One is shaped like gratitude, one glistens with light and shadow, one is so smooth it touches you when you touch it. These are kin you keep—and birdsong is probably the only timepiece you need.

I wish I could give you words at night, the kind that could make your heart ache less. I wish I could hum away unwanted thoughts that seep under the door. I wish I could let go, like an ebbing tide, like a Zen Master. For now, we’ll breathe and wait for the Robin, who is carefully selecting a branch by the window.

[Soul_of_Shu]

Lou ... indeed, in a world where fakery seems afoot just about everywhere Gavin Van Horn's poetic piece strikes a resonant chord, and a perfect send-off for a walk in the woods ... Thanks for the synchronous sharing

[Ed Konderla]

I live in the most pristine natural sublime environment I could ever imagine. Many days especially at sunset and sunrise I feel like I am living in a prayer.

[Soul_of_Shu]

I live in the most pristine natural sublime environment I could ever imagine. Many days especially at sunset and sunrise I feel like I am living in a prayer.

I do envy that ... curiously, as I was just reminded once more, the nearby conservation area has never been more trekked by the locals in this past year, far more than in the previous 13 years I've lived here, as if they are now craving the real deal over the digital fakery that Lou alluded to. Alas, when I once could walk the trails for a couple of hours and encounter less than 12 passersby, I now have to nod the head and say g'day to about triple that number on any given weekday, some feeding the wildlife seeds from their hands, and looking awestruck if they happen upon a whitetail buck looking back at them in all its crowned majesty ... still, I take it as a positive that so many folks are once again drawn to a rendezvous with nature, such as it is.

[Ed Konderla]

When you talk about the fakery here it is rampant. My fellow Gringo's get here many will take a trip to the rain forest and be shocked that it rains a lot and may spoil their trip, that it is really humid, that there are bugs, lots of bugs, that the hiking trails are muddy and rugged due to the mountainous terrain, etc., etc. Nothing like the National Geographic specials. So they spend all their time in Cuenca or the beach. Another good one is they want to get to know Ecuadorians or as they put it the local people and culture. So if they have Ecuadorian friends at all they are Ecuadorians that lived in the states for 20 years and speak perfect English or better yet hire an Ecuadorian maid or gardener and just become overwhelmed with how generous they are to let these folks clean their toilets. Many come here and create completely new personas because nobody knows who they were in their previous life.
lt is fascinating to see.

[Lou Gold]

Another poem for you Ed:

MYSTERIES, YES

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

~ Mary Oliver ~
(Evidence)

[Ed Konderla]

Keep them coming!

[Lou Gold]

Back to the main theme, here are Collaboration and empathy as evolutionary success stories.

[Ed Konderla]

Back to the main theme, here are Collaboration and empathy as evolutionary success stories.

I loved the picture of the lichen. I read it and before commenting on it what is your take away?