I've always loved the concept of rivers and what they are. I always want to make the water vanish for just a moment so I can see what lays underneath -- how deep is it? What kind of rocks and trees and who knows what else is under there.
As for the sources of rivers, oh, how I love that question. I love reading articles about the quest to find the headwaters for the <insert famous river>, partly because I so love the idea that very huge things grow out of the humblest of beginnings.
As for hope vs despair, that's always tricky. I guess in the very long view, I've always taken comfort in the idea that the earth will abide -- even if we disappear. Don't get me wrong. I really REALLY don't want that to happen and look for signs -- like the insect article you mention -- that things are better than we think.
But if not? Beautiful sunrises will still be happening no matter what....
I take comfort in that view, too, while also, yes, not wanting it to happen and being chronically sad at all the suffering that is ongoing and completely unnecessary.
A river is such a vast, complex thing! There's a local lake institute that does little science presentations with local researchers, which is where I learned more about rivers a few years ago. It's incredible to think of how far they go beyond their banks, and how much is dependent on that spreading ecosystem. If we could just devote our lives to moonrises and sunrises and rivers ...
[A shameless remake (by yours truly) of a poem by Kabir, "Please," written something like 700 years ago which still lingers in my heart, though I don’t have a copy of the original at hand, nor have I any inclination to find one.]
Actually, apologies where needed, it was Hafiz, not Kabir who evoked this shameless appropriation of art. And the inspiration was apparently two poems, not one.
Kabir uses the word God. I don't because for me the word has been sullied for thousands of years by misunderstandings around faith and divinity. We don't need any belief system to be in deep wonder and awe of it all. The scent, taste, and feel is all we may get, and that may be just enough to know. Kabir was a Sufi mystic and it is clear he was in wonder and awe. The trappings of faith are not a barrier to meeting him any more than hundreds of years and the fog of language are.
Mar 14, 2023·edited Mar 14, 2023Liked by Antonia Malchik
Thank you once again, Antonia. I always look forward to reading your essays.
I read the article, "How Darkness Can Illuminate the Insect Apocalypse." Very interesting. However, because "about 1 billion pounds of conventional pesticides are used each year in the United States to control weeds, insects, and other pests" (US Geological Survey: https://www.usgs.gov/centers/ohio-kentucky-indiana-water-science-center/science/pesticides), it is difficult to imagine how insect populations are not being decimated. But poisoning the planet is a multi-billion dollar industry, dontcha know.
Also: thank you for the Solzhenitsyn excerpt. It's perfect. I'm going to use it in an upcoming presentation on Heidegger's "The Question Concerning Technology." He asserts that poetry (along with other forms of art), because of its unique way of revealing contains the "saving power." It's complicated.
Love the photo, and I loved your referring to the Moon as "Her." I know you're not religious (I am endlessly conflicted, can make no claims of knowing anything, and am not the least bit doctrinal), and I believe your are an atheist, but have you ever read "The Canticle of the Sun," by Francis of Assisi? It is beautiful in that it really stretches the bounds of how conventional Christian theology considers the non-human natural world. In it, he refers to "Sister Moon." I love that. Many times over the years I have hiked up to my favorite spot around dusk just to sit on a large rock, feel the breeze on my skin, and watch her rise over the hills. We speak to one another in a language unbounded by words.
That Solzhenitsyn speech is pretty incredible. Someone posted it a couple months ago in a different Substack's subscriber-only space and I couldn't believe I'd never read it before. Sounds like you'll make good use of it!
I agree with you about the insects. It was intriguing to think about the idea that scientists might be looking in the wrong places, but it's also impossible to overlook the poisons being spread around. I get anxious looking for the first bees every year in my yard. You might be interested in the work of Tabitha Graves, a USGS wildlife biologist who was studying huckleberries as part of her grizzly bear expertise, and has shifted for a while to helping studying wild bees here in Montana: https://www.usgs.gov/publications/recent-and-future-declines-a-historically-widespread-pollinator-linked-climate-land
(She's a friend and doesn't do popular science writing but is a wonderful speaker and explainer of her work, which is how we met, when I did a couple of articles about her huckleberry research.)
I'm glad you asked about the atheism. I did write a long essay about that years ago, for Full Grown People I think, and actually appreciate when people ask because it's less straightforward, to me, than the word indicates. I know the popular conception of it is people like Richard Dawkins who loudly and aggressively insist that there are no gods. I spent a lot of time thinking about it when I was younger, and realized I didn't believe that, only that I *personally* had no faith in an outside, usually hierarchical, power, while also believing that my own lack of faith said nothing about whether or not those powers exist. It's a lack of faith, in other words, not an insistence on some kind of objective reality.
I also didn't (and don't) necessarily think lack of faith was a good thing. It's just not something I've been able to help, which probably has a lot of early roots. Finding a way to connect whatever is keeping me from some kind of faith to my actual conviction that the world is full of gods and spirits in trees, rivers, Moon, mountains, and everything, is an ongoing effort. I don't generally use "spiritual, but not religious," because I've known far, far too many people who used that identifier and ended up stripping it of all meaning and attraction for me.
Whenever the subject of spiritual beliefs and/or religious affiliation comes up in conversation, I've taken lately to responding that I am nothing more (and nothing less) than a humble seeker, that I cannot possible know with any certainty what lies beyond the phenomenological world (I don't use that term) in which I live my everyday life (none of us can), only that I've known since early childhood that there is *something.* I have felt that something. I have experienced it. Sometimes powerfully. And to give it a name, to clothe it in human language, to pin it to a page with other human words as if it were a captured insect, would be to diminish it.
I pray because praying connects me to something greater than myself. It centers me. When I am centered I make better decisions. When I am centered I am more thoughtful and kind. When I am centered I am more at peace. Unfortunately, I am not always centered. Unfortunately, I am oftentimes not at peace. For reasons I will never understand, prayer seems to be my last resort after pride, and anger, sleeplessness, and self-pity, have been played out and left me at wits’ end.
When I pray I am not certain as to whom, or to what, I am praying. Most certainly I am not praying to any deity described in any religious text, or to any entity, per se, that can be described with human language. Perhaps I am praying to a presence. And perhaps that presence already dwells within me, and not on a throne in the sky someplace waiting to cast thunderbolts upon those who can’t keep up with the program. Perhaps I am praying to the *whole* from which every life is individuated for a brief moment before melding back home. Perhaps prayer is merely a form of seeking, and that seeking helps me to stay on a good path. If that’s what it is, then so be it.
My youngest daughter is unambivalent in calling herself an atheist. We have had telephone calls about this subject that lasted for hours. She says she likes talking to me about spiritual matters because I am “open minded,” and “not judgmental.” How can I be otherwise? I understand the blind leap required to believe there is anything at all. After all, this world is a sorry witness to the notion that we were (are) created by a loving and all-powerful god who created us in his image and is always in control. And to paraphrase Plato: the only thing I know for certain is that I know nothing at all.
The next time you are out gazing into the night sky, please give my regards to the Moon and the Stars. They know who I am.
This is beautiful, and yes, I do know what you mean, both with the "something" and with the praying.
"I understand the blind leap required to believe there is anything at all." Years ago I heard an interview with a nun who said that people ask her a lot about the difficulty of faith and she said -- or was quoting someone -- that the difficult wasn't struggling with faith; the difficulty was struggling with doubt. I wish I could remember who she was or what the interview was because it really spoke to all of this. I have a lot of respect for people of faith who talk about doubt.
We can all send along our regards! And your daughter sounds like a wonderful person to talk with on her own.🧡🧡🧡
Because of the gender fluidity rampant today I am tempted, out of respect - for who really knows- to refer to the moon as they/them. But I prefer "her" so to heck with political correctness.
I think it's less objective political correctness than simple respect for who people tell us they are. My daughter informed me years ago that our car (named Brave) is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. 🙂 My truck (Rusty), on the other hand, like many cars, is "she."
I await the moon's declaration, and will respect their telling whatever it is. But if they remain silent what to do about the man in the moon? Is he the moon, a willing guest or partner? It's beyond me, but there is no need for answers where by a mystical thread we are entrained.
Wonderful images as always, both the pictures and your writing. The 15-minute cities article was disturbing by which we redirect people against their own interests -- weird. I have been following the insect studies and your post will likely lead to a story -- thanks -- its a bit of a shill so no link -- I am confident you would enjoy the insights of the survey I included in my most recent post about spring. I liked it because it intersects with what writing or walking in nature can do -- connect us to our primals. All of us are conditioned to not click on links but it is one of the things I love about Substack -- the links have been vetted in writing we enjoy.
I saw that survey on your most recent post and didn't click on it but if I have some clear time it's still in my head. It sounds like an interesting way to approach all of this.
Thanks for reading! And yeah, the 15-minute cities thing really is disturbing. A friend of mine's daughter is doing graduate work at Oxford and watched some of the most dedicated protests that have been taking place there.
So many times when I observe the anger of people toward each other and the accusations, it makes me sad. I wish we were not wired to fall for this stuff but we are. The survey rocks and there are multiple versions based on how much time you can commit. I took the long survey (99 questions) and was done in less than 10 minutes. It is sort of built for you to capture your first impression.
Yes -- you will love the analysis of what the 28 primal questions are -- I have a longtime friend who passed away last summer. Our politics were 100% counter to each other but that never stood in the way of a 30 year friendship. Michael was inquisitive and had no room for fear. He often said fear is just ignorance masquerading. Since your audience undoubtedly dwarfs mine perhaps I should link here to make your audience think I am just clickbait :) -- I'd be glad to add the link to just the story and the survey if you wish so they can avoid my springtime meandering. LMK
Okay, I took it! You will likely not be surprised to know that my "Good" world belief is 3.42. High on things like Cooperation (5.0) and Enticing and Interesting (both 4.0), low on Just (1.8; I know too many good people whom awful things keep happening to) and Stable (2.0, but I wrote in my comments that I thought some of those questions were too loosely worded and difficult to answer clearly -- do they mean a riverine ecosystem, or democracy? I find one of these far more stable than the other!). My Hierarchical score was 0.8. 😂
In my hours in the car this past weekend I listened to Ben Goldfarb's book EAGER, about beavers, and was reminded again that our modern concept of what rivers and streams look like, let alone even are, is also utterly wrong given the destruction the fur trade inflicted on our landscape.
Very true. I hadn’t even thought of that aspect, but having seen the work of beavers really brings it home. (The author of “The Invention of Rivers” is from Bangalore, and it sounds like his work is mostly about India. I only just ordered it so don’t know if he writes about animals in it.)
It's mind-boggling how well that demonstrates beaver's effects in such a short time! I read an article last year describing that entire process that must have been over 2000 words, and this 40 seconds said the same thing. Very cool, thanks!
I've always loved the concept of rivers and what they are. I always want to make the water vanish for just a moment so I can see what lays underneath -- how deep is it? What kind of rocks and trees and who knows what else is under there.
As for the sources of rivers, oh, how I love that question. I love reading articles about the quest to find the headwaters for the <insert famous river>, partly because I so love the idea that very huge things grow out of the humblest of beginnings.
As for hope vs despair, that's always tricky. I guess in the very long view, I've always taken comfort in the idea that the earth will abide -- even if we disappear. Don't get me wrong. I really REALLY don't want that to happen and look for signs -- like the insect article you mention -- that things are better than we think.
But if not? Beautiful sunrises will still be happening no matter what....
I take comfort in that view, too, while also, yes, not wanting it to happen and being chronically sad at all the suffering that is ongoing and completely unnecessary.
A river is such a vast, complex thing! There's a local lake institute that does little science presentations with local researchers, which is where I learned more about rivers a few years ago. It's incredible to think of how far they go beyond their banks, and how much is dependent on that spreading ecosystem. If we could just devote our lives to moonrises and sunrises and rivers ...
We are at the river’s end
She bears gifts from every
continent, creature, and age
towards the sea
It has been raining on the mountains
for millions of years
the granite walls weep
she scours the banks that hold her
she is muddy with rich sediment
I hear these words from her
as we on the seashore gaze into
the dazzle of the ocean
“Dear one, come along.
Please my dear ones, Come along.”
[A shameless remake (by yours truly) of a poem by Kabir, "Please," written something like 700 years ago which still lingers in my heart, though I don’t have a copy of the original at hand, nor have I any inclination to find one.]
Actually, apologies where needed, it was Hafiz, not Kabir who evoked this shameless appropriation of art. And the inspiration was apparently two poems, not one.
Kabir uses the word God. I don't because for me the word has been sullied for thousands of years by misunderstandings around faith and divinity. We don't need any belief system to be in deep wonder and awe of it all. The scent, taste, and feel is all we may get, and that may be just enough to know. Kabir was a Sufi mystic and it is clear he was in wonder and awe. The trappings of faith are not a barrier to meeting him any more than hundreds of years and the fog of language are.
That's beautiful. Thank you for sharing, no matter which version.
Thank you once again, Antonia. I always look forward to reading your essays.
I read the article, "How Darkness Can Illuminate the Insect Apocalypse." Very interesting. However, because "about 1 billion pounds of conventional pesticides are used each year in the United States to control weeds, insects, and other pests" (US Geological Survey: https://www.usgs.gov/centers/ohio-kentucky-indiana-water-science-center/science/pesticides), it is difficult to imagine how insect populations are not being decimated. But poisoning the planet is a multi-billion dollar industry, dontcha know.
Also: thank you for the Solzhenitsyn excerpt. It's perfect. I'm going to use it in an upcoming presentation on Heidegger's "The Question Concerning Technology." He asserts that poetry (along with other forms of art), because of its unique way of revealing contains the "saving power." It's complicated.
Love the photo, and I loved your referring to the Moon as "Her." I know you're not religious (I am endlessly conflicted, can make no claims of knowing anything, and am not the least bit doctrinal), and I believe your are an atheist, but have you ever read "The Canticle of the Sun," by Francis of Assisi? It is beautiful in that it really stretches the bounds of how conventional Christian theology considers the non-human natural world. In it, he refers to "Sister Moon." I love that. Many times over the years I have hiked up to my favorite spot around dusk just to sit on a large rock, feel the breeze on my skin, and watch her rise over the hills. We speak to one another in a language unbounded by words.
That Solzhenitsyn speech is pretty incredible. Someone posted it a couple months ago in a different Substack's subscriber-only space and I couldn't believe I'd never read it before. Sounds like you'll make good use of it!
I agree with you about the insects. It was intriguing to think about the idea that scientists might be looking in the wrong places, but it's also impossible to overlook the poisons being spread around. I get anxious looking for the first bees every year in my yard. You might be interested in the work of Tabitha Graves, a USGS wildlife biologist who was studying huckleberries as part of her grizzly bear expertise, and has shifted for a while to helping studying wild bees here in Montana: https://www.usgs.gov/publications/recent-and-future-declines-a-historically-widespread-pollinator-linked-climate-land
(She's a friend and doesn't do popular science writing but is a wonderful speaker and explainer of her work, which is how we met, when I did a couple of articles about her huckleberry research.)
I'm glad you asked about the atheism. I did write a long essay about that years ago, for Full Grown People I think, and actually appreciate when people ask because it's less straightforward, to me, than the word indicates. I know the popular conception of it is people like Richard Dawkins who loudly and aggressively insist that there are no gods. I spent a lot of time thinking about it when I was younger, and realized I didn't believe that, only that I *personally* had no faith in an outside, usually hierarchical, power, while also believing that my own lack of faith said nothing about whether or not those powers exist. It's a lack of faith, in other words, not an insistence on some kind of objective reality.
I also didn't (and don't) necessarily think lack of faith was a good thing. It's just not something I've been able to help, which probably has a lot of early roots. Finding a way to connect whatever is keeping me from some kind of faith to my actual conviction that the world is full of gods and spirits in trees, rivers, Moon, mountains, and everything, is an ongoing effort. I don't generally use "spiritual, but not religious," because I've known far, far too many people who used that identifier and ended up stripping it of all meaning and attraction for me.
Whenever the subject of spiritual beliefs and/or religious affiliation comes up in conversation, I've taken lately to responding that I am nothing more (and nothing less) than a humble seeker, that I cannot possible know with any certainty what lies beyond the phenomenological world (I don't use that term) in which I live my everyday life (none of us can), only that I've known since early childhood that there is *something.* I have felt that something. I have experienced it. Sometimes powerfully. And to give it a name, to clothe it in human language, to pin it to a page with other human words as if it were a captured insect, would be to diminish it.
I pray because praying connects me to something greater than myself. It centers me. When I am centered I make better decisions. When I am centered I am more thoughtful and kind. When I am centered I am more at peace. Unfortunately, I am not always centered. Unfortunately, I am oftentimes not at peace. For reasons I will never understand, prayer seems to be my last resort after pride, and anger, sleeplessness, and self-pity, have been played out and left me at wits’ end.
When I pray I am not certain as to whom, or to what, I am praying. Most certainly I am not praying to any deity described in any religious text, or to any entity, per se, that can be described with human language. Perhaps I am praying to a presence. And perhaps that presence already dwells within me, and not on a throne in the sky someplace waiting to cast thunderbolts upon those who can’t keep up with the program. Perhaps I am praying to the *whole* from which every life is individuated for a brief moment before melding back home. Perhaps prayer is merely a form of seeking, and that seeking helps me to stay on a good path. If that’s what it is, then so be it.
My youngest daughter is unambivalent in calling herself an atheist. We have had telephone calls about this subject that lasted for hours. She says she likes talking to me about spiritual matters because I am “open minded,” and “not judgmental.” How can I be otherwise? I understand the blind leap required to believe there is anything at all. After all, this world is a sorry witness to the notion that we were (are) created by a loving and all-powerful god who created us in his image and is always in control. And to paraphrase Plato: the only thing I know for certain is that I know nothing at all.
The next time you are out gazing into the night sky, please give my regards to the Moon and the Stars. They know who I am.
Peace.
This is beautiful, and yes, I do know what you mean, both with the "something" and with the praying.
"I understand the blind leap required to believe there is anything at all." Years ago I heard an interview with a nun who said that people ask her a lot about the difficulty of faith and she said -- or was quoting someone -- that the difficult wasn't struggling with faith; the difficulty was struggling with doubt. I wish I could remember who she was or what the interview was because it really spoke to all of this. I have a lot of respect for people of faith who talk about doubt.
We can all send along our regards! And your daughter sounds like a wonderful person to talk with on her own.🧡🧡🧡
Because of the gender fluidity rampant today I am tempted, out of respect - for who really knows- to refer to the moon as they/them. But I prefer "her" so to heck with political correctness.
I think it's less objective political correctness than simple respect for who people tell us they are. My daughter informed me years ago that our car (named Brave) is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. 🙂 My truck (Rusty), on the other hand, like many cars, is "she."
I await the moon's declaration, and will respect their telling whatever it is. But if they remain silent what to do about the man in the moon? Is he the moon, a willing guest or partner? It's beyond me, but there is no need for answers where by a mystical thread we are entrained.
It's beyond me, too.
Wonderful images as always, both the pictures and your writing. The 15-minute cities article was disturbing by which we redirect people against their own interests -- weird. I have been following the insect studies and your post will likely lead to a story -- thanks -- its a bit of a shill so no link -- I am confident you would enjoy the insights of the survey I included in my most recent post about spring. I liked it because it intersects with what writing or walking in nature can do -- connect us to our primals. All of us are conditioned to not click on links but it is one of the things I love about Substack -- the links have been vetted in writing we enjoy.
I saw that survey on your most recent post and didn't click on it but if I have some clear time it's still in my head. It sounds like an interesting way to approach all of this.
Thanks for reading! And yeah, the 15-minute cities thing really is disturbing. A friend of mine's daughter is doing graduate work at Oxford and watched some of the most dedicated protests that have been taking place there.
So many times when I observe the anger of people toward each other and the accusations, it makes me sad. I wish we were not wired to fall for this stuff but we are. The survey rocks and there are multiple versions based on how much time you can commit. I took the long survey (99 questions) and was done in less than 10 minutes. It is sort of built for you to capture your first impression.
I'm sure you know -- much of it, if not all, is down to fear.
Yes -- you will love the analysis of what the 28 primal questions are -- I have a longtime friend who passed away last summer. Our politics were 100% counter to each other but that never stood in the way of a 30 year friendship. Michael was inquisitive and had no room for fear. He often said fear is just ignorance masquerading. Since your audience undoubtedly dwarfs mine perhaps I should link here to make your audience think I am just clickbait :) -- I'd be glad to add the link to just the story and the survey if you wish so they can avoid my springtime meandering. LMK
Okay, I took it! You will likely not be surprised to know that my "Good" world belief is 3.42. High on things like Cooperation (5.0) and Enticing and Interesting (both 4.0), low on Just (1.8; I know too many good people whom awful things keep happening to) and Stable (2.0, but I wrote in my comments that I thought some of those questions were too loosely worded and difficult to answer clearly -- do they mean a riverine ecosystem, or democracy? I find one of these far more stable than the other!). My Hierarchical score was 0.8. 😂
I'll check mine
I'm saving every word of this.
You are so kind, Susan. 🧡
In my hours in the car this past weekend I listened to Ben Goldfarb's book EAGER, about beavers, and was reminded again that our modern concept of what rivers and streams look like, let alone even are, is also utterly wrong given the destruction the fur trade inflicted on our landscape.
Very true. I hadn’t even thought of that aspect, but having seen the work of beavers really brings it home. (The author of “The Invention of Rivers” is from Bangalore, and it sounds like his work is mostly about India. I only just ordered it so don’t know if he writes about animals in it.)
On the subject of beavers, this is my most favourite video about the importance of beavers, by Dr Emily Fairfax https://twitter.com/EmilyFairfax/status/1097195169131024384
It's mind-boggling how well that demonstrates beaver's effects in such a short time! I read an article last year describing that entire process that must have been over 2000 words, and this 40 seconds said the same thing. Very cool, thanks!