How lovely. The opening, the small grass field in the woods, would be one of my favorite 'places' to go when meditating, many years ago. Since 20 years I now live on a wooded acre, and 2 years ago a tree fell and left a small open area, and a see-through to the next lot, 50 wooded acres... alone but never lonely, surrounded by a dog, 2 cats, and many trees. And a few owls that Cook For You in the woods... what more can a person want.
That hermit is me. Thank you for the reminder. There is a line in "The Invitation" that says something like " can you be alone, just yourself, and truly love the company that you keep, in the quiet moments" That said some time ago I searched the derivation of the word "alone". In one early English interpretation it was defined as "All" plus "One." Not as part of one. Rather an addition to "One". Fascinating.
Bruce- That is a fascinating derivation for the word “alone.” It’s interesting to see the development of words from old English through Middle English and eventually to our modern meaning.
"unaccompanied, solitary; without companions," c. 1300, a contraction of all ane, from Old English all ana "unaccompanied, all by oneself," literally "wholly oneself," from all "all, wholly" (see all) + an "one" (see one). It preserves the old pronunciation of one.
I admire your captured moments of individuals "paused". Not the same, but I feel a similar thought process-when feeling a bit more alone than I wish, I look out at neighborhoods or office buildings and, while staring at a distance, especially at night. I wonder who is in those structures, what are they doing, how do they feel? For some reason it brings me to focus back on myself, jump starting my thoughts on what I am doing...and being by myself. That there are so many people, clearly existing, I gather the mindfulness of my own being again. Thanks again for your piece --
There’s much value in that, John. Imagining the lives of others, in buildings and passing cars and neighborhoods. Others not unlike ourselves, with dreams and doubts and wins and losses. Absorbing that reminds us that we’re not alone.
This resonates deeply. I think (and hope) we all have the capacity to be a kind of hermit—to step inward, to be quiet, to sit with our own thoughts. But we’re driven toward constant motion and endless distraction, so we rarely give ourselves permission to do it.
What struck me most is how none of the people you describe appear broken or abandoned. They aren’t escaping the world so much as briefly returning to themselves. Those pauses feel less like loneliness and more like necessary breathing spaces—small sanctuaries in the middle of ordinary life.
“Necessary breathing spaces …” I like the way you phrased that, Ron. I suppose we all retreat now and then into quiet corridors of solitude and thoughts. I think we need to, to briefly restore something in ourselves.
Farming involves spending a lot of time alone, away from other people. Not much mobile phone reception on most of our land. Plenty of think time. At the end of an alone day I always find it an extra effort to speak and interact with other people, even my family. It’s like the quietness becomes a default setting, the inward ruminations make me want to stay in that space somehow.
That makes sense to me, Alan. Working the land, the farm, it’s something like an agrarian monastery conducive to contemplation. And then to return to the rhythms of conversation and family and perhaps evening television all require one to swim up to the surface. To return from those deep waters of quiet and reflection and serenity. A lot of people who work in crowded buildings full of noise and chaos no doubt long for what you experience in farming.
There’s so much distraction and noise today. It’s got to be a conscious decision to try and turn off the noise for a bit, carve out some quiet. Regardless where we find ourselves. A very well respected older farm advisor who does a lot of car travel once said he never puts the radio on or listens to anything while he’s driving, that is his think time. We all wish for a quieter, more centred life. A variation on the old saying, ‘The grass is greener on the other side of the fence’, is instead, ‘The grass is greener where you water it’.
It’s got some good points John. If you get a chance have a look at AB ‘Banjo’ Patterson’s poem, ‘Clancy of the Overflow’. He was a famous Australian bush poet in the late 1800s.
Just read it. Beautiful. I imagine there are many who feel trapped in modern city life dreaming of the freedom and spiritual richness of the outdoors and the wide-open bush. The tension between modernity and dingy offices and confinement versus the freedom of travel, nature, a slower pace. Thanks for suggesting the poem, Alan.
Here in southern Nevada we’ve been spared the severe cold weather experienced elsewhere. I feel for those folks, especially the elderly and anyone without a home or braving the elements. I hope the weather improves for them. Thanks for reading, Brenda.
Your writings are always read by me---I'm financially challenged or I'd support you more, but your writings are special. I did not get my comments for the last issue, but I want you to know that I have had a history of time in Carmel, CA and always knew it was my place--the air, the ocean, the trees, the sunsets, the beauty. ---its a long story, but we lost a very large. farming business due to a drought and after bankruptcy we managed , but right after COVID our daughter offered to house us if we'd move to Carmel and help her with her young children as she worked in corporate marketing. We also have a son living her in Real Estate. OF course, we moved permanently to Carmel. For over 50 years, though that we drove back and forth from the Central Valley of CA, I never met Clint Eastwood. Watched him play golf in the early Crosby's , still eat in the Mision Ranch, but he is still the elusive Clint. I was an Interior Designer and Clint hired my best finished carpenter from the Valley to build furniture for his home etc. Anyway, I breathe in gratitude that I get to be here. You need to visit again, Karlene Ryan
Love your perspective on the every day. You always give me new things to think about. Thank you.
Thanks, Brenda, glad you enjoyed it.
How lovely. The opening, the small grass field in the woods, would be one of my favorite 'places' to go when meditating, many years ago. Since 20 years I now live on a wooded acre, and 2 years ago a tree fell and left a small open area, and a see-through to the next lot, 50 wooded acres... alone but never lonely, surrounded by a dog, 2 cats, and many trees. And a few owls that Cook For You in the woods... what more can a person want.
A dog, two cats, many trees, and a friendly owl…sounds like heaven to me, INGRID. Thanks for reading.
paradise : )))
That hermit is me. Thank you for the reminder. There is a line in "The Invitation" that says something like " can you be alone, just yourself, and truly love the company that you keep, in the quiet moments" That said some time ago I searched the derivation of the word "alone". In one early English interpretation it was defined as "All" plus "One." Not as part of one. Rather an addition to "One". Fascinating.
Bruce- That is a fascinating derivation for the word “alone.” It’s interesting to see the development of words from old English through Middle English and eventually to our modern meaning.
Bruce--the all plus one is a great summary indicating the positive aspect of being wholly oneself. From: https://www.etymonline.com/word/alone:
"unaccompanied, solitary; without companions," c. 1300, a contraction of all ane, from Old English all ana "unaccompanied, all by oneself," literally "wholly oneself," from all "all, wholly" (see all) + an "one" (see one). It preserves the old pronunciation of one.
I admire your captured moments of individuals "paused". Not the same, but I feel a similar thought process-when feeling a bit more alone than I wish, I look out at neighborhoods or office buildings and, while staring at a distance, especially at night. I wonder who is in those structures, what are they doing, how do they feel? For some reason it brings me to focus back on myself, jump starting my thoughts on what I am doing...and being by myself. That there are so many people, clearly existing, I gather the mindfulness of my own being again. Thanks again for your piece --
There’s much value in that, John. Imagining the lives of others, in buildings and passing cars and neighborhoods. Others not unlike ourselves, with dreams and doubts and wins and losses. Absorbing that reminds us that we’re not alone.
This resonates deeply. I think (and hope) we all have the capacity to be a kind of hermit—to step inward, to be quiet, to sit with our own thoughts. But we’re driven toward constant motion and endless distraction, so we rarely give ourselves permission to do it.
What struck me most is how none of the people you describe appear broken or abandoned. They aren’t escaping the world so much as briefly returning to themselves. Those pauses feel less like loneliness and more like necessary breathing spaces—small sanctuaries in the middle of ordinary life.
“Necessary breathing spaces …” I like the way you phrased that, Ron. I suppose we all retreat now and then into quiet corridors of solitude and thoughts. I think we need to, to briefly restore something in ourselves.
Farming involves spending a lot of time alone, away from other people. Not much mobile phone reception on most of our land. Plenty of think time. At the end of an alone day I always find it an extra effort to speak and interact with other people, even my family. It’s like the quietness becomes a default setting, the inward ruminations make me want to stay in that space somehow.
That makes sense to me, Alan. Working the land, the farm, it’s something like an agrarian monastery conducive to contemplation. And then to return to the rhythms of conversation and family and perhaps evening television all require one to swim up to the surface. To return from those deep waters of quiet and reflection and serenity. A lot of people who work in crowded buildings full of noise and chaos no doubt long for what you experience in farming.
There’s so much distraction and noise today. It’s got to be a conscious decision to try and turn off the noise for a bit, carve out some quiet. Regardless where we find ourselves. A very well respected older farm advisor who does a lot of car travel once said he never puts the radio on or listens to anything while he’s driving, that is his think time. We all wish for a quieter, more centred life. A variation on the old saying, ‘The grass is greener on the other side of the fence’, is instead, ‘The grass is greener where you water it’.
It’s got some good points John. If you get a chance have a look at AB ‘Banjo’ Patterson’s poem, ‘Clancy of the Overflow’. He was a famous Australian bush poet in the late 1800s.
Just read it. Beautiful. I imagine there are many who feel trapped in modern city life dreaming of the freedom and spiritual richness of the outdoors and the wide-open bush. The tension between modernity and dingy offices and confinement versus the freedom of travel, nature, a slower pace. Thanks for suggesting the poem, Alan.
a very melancholy piece John... that shows the human side of humanity ...
How are you being effected by that storm that Canada ushered in with all that cold air..
I am shocked by the damage in Mississippi ...Louisiana.. Texas .. and all along the East Coast..
Here in southern Nevada we’ve been spared the severe cold weather experienced elsewhere. I feel for those folks, especially the elderly and anyone without a home or braving the elements. I hope the weather improves for them. Thanks for reading, Brenda.
Your writings are always read by me---I'm financially challenged or I'd support you more, but your writings are special. I did not get my comments for the last issue, but I want you to know that I have had a history of time in Carmel, CA and always knew it was my place--the air, the ocean, the trees, the sunsets, the beauty. ---its a long story, but we lost a very large. farming business due to a drought and after bankruptcy we managed , but right after COVID our daughter offered to house us if we'd move to Carmel and help her with her young children as she worked in corporate marketing. We also have a son living her in Real Estate. OF course, we moved permanently to Carmel. For over 50 years, though that we drove back and forth from the Central Valley of CA, I never met Clint Eastwood. Watched him play golf in the early Crosby's , still eat in the Mision Ranch, but he is still the elusive Clint. I was an Interior Designer and Clint hired my best finished carpenter from the Valley to build furniture for his home etc. Anyway, I breathe in gratitude that I get to be here. You need to visit again, Karlene Ryan
Thanks for reading Karlene, and how blessed you are to live in Carmel. Such a special, beautiful place.
Hi John. I think this may be my favorite essay of yours.
“A return to self beneath the noise”
Yes.
I practice yoga occasionally and my teacher integrates some sayings with poses.
One is - I relax from outer experiences and into my inner haven of peace.
I’ve repeated this during many times of crisis and stress or just when there’s a lot of traffic!
Thank you John for sharing these beautiful and true words.