Sharon Blackie writes, in The Enchanted Life, about cultural myths that underlie societies. In our society, the myth of progress, drives
the culture. “Progress means never sitting still, never counting our blessings –
always wanting more, more, more.” (p. 155)
On the next page, she wonders, “What if we found different myths to live
by, and what if those myths taught us to truly value what we have, rather than
always striving for more? What if they
taught us to value enchantment rather than exploitation?” (p. 156)
Due to some physical challenges, my partner and I can’t
paddle long distances in our canoe this summer.
Luckily, we bought an 18 foot freighter canoe last summer and put a
small 2.5 hp motor on it. This long green
vessel allows us to motor across the big water of Georgian Bay until we find
marshland. Then we cut the motor and sit
quietly. With no goal in mind and no
where to “get to”, we let the wind determine our course. Occasionally we have to push ourselves away
from submerged rocks with a paddle but for the most part, we sit quietly and
wait.
The silent marsh gradually comes to life once its
inhabitants have forgotten that we are there. Or maybe they are aware of our presence but have decided that we pose no threat. Gradually, we begin to hear a chorus of red-winged blackbirds, marsh wrens, goldfinches,
swamp sparrows, bitterns, grebes and the occasional great blue heron
croaking. This past week, we heard one
bullfrog calling and then a second in what seemed to be a call and response
pattern. Then another and another until
we were surrounded by deep bull frog calls on all sides. We grinned silently at each other at this symphonic delight. All the while, the sun was setting on Georgian Bay in pinks, blues and purples and the marsh music provided the sound track to the images that surrounded
us.
Blackie quotes theologian and cultural historian, Thomas
Berry who proposed that a new story would have “’an integral vision’ in which ‘human
persons bear the universe in their being as the universe bears them in its being.’
In other words: one in which we see
ourselves as an intrinsic part of the world around us, not as separate.” (p. 160)
As we drifted through the marshland, we were inside the
wind, it bore us across the surface of the water. Below us were bass, sunfish, trout, pike, map
turtles, gobies, countless underwater forests of aquatic plants and aquatic
insects by the millions. Above, flew
flocks of blackbirds, cormorants, Caspian terns, Ring-billed gulls and Mallard
ducks. Just over the water were millions
of newly hatched insects that were picked off by dragonflies and birds. High above us, soared Turkey Vultures, those
graceful windriders. And in the
middle of what we perceived, we floated in our green canoe, being born by the
universe, while we felt the universe within us.
The boundaries blurred and we were no longer other. We belonged, we were part of this grand parade
of life and we soaked in the magic, the enchantment like parched soil does the
rain.
Before it got dark, we were filled up and we returned to the town, with its walled houses, fenced yards and no trespassing signs. The old story was played out in a thousand ways as we walked through the streets. But we were immersed and saturated with the new story, it fed us and would sustains us in these challenging times. It is becoming our new story and the old story confuses us more and more with its insanity. Then we have to return to the places that allow us to be a part of the new story in which we value what we have and we value enchantment.
Oh and Happy National Canoe Day!
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