Musings from an old blog about how a forest flows. It is a metaphor on life.
Is thinking the way AN Whitehead argued – The Flux of Things as the essence of it all, with the observer a part of the whole experience – the step we must take in order to stop dismantled the functioning life around us as if it were some machine. I think it is. We’ve stepped away from that wisdom and called it folk lore.
Think adverbs and verbs – the doing and connecting words as the defining words for life. Emphasise less the adjectives and nouns – those words for frozen moments.
Is this too deep? I would like to look into the eyes of those old kuia and kaumatua from a century past; those that lived before the western view clouded our eyes. I would like to look into the eyes of Heremaima who people still remember from the 1950s. This old kuia had the ways of the ancients, a knowing that made her one with things. Heremaima would leave Te Hauke before dawn to walk thirty kilometres bathing in the mist to the battle sites at Whakatu, there to wash herself in the heavy dew she knew would be there then, before a full emersion in the Ngaruroro River. Can you picture that? It was a ritual of remembrance and connection.
If you had the privilege to look into her eyes, I think you might find Whitehead’s “ultimate, integral experience” there.