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Posted: August 9th, 2007 at 12:58am By: Anne E. Ulvestad
Sitting on the beach — the waves are rolling, smoothly, consistently, tickling my toes. Slowly but surely, they make their way closer and closer to my blanket. Not as consistent as they seem, I'm thinking. Suddenly the wind picks up, as do the waves. That large one is quite a bit larger and rougher than before. Still there is a pattern here that tells of rotations, moon and tide.
In my last column, I told you about the towing of my car. My friend and I had been talking about the character of the people in this area — slow-moving, expecting the courtesy and friendliness of a hello, how are you, but quick to take offense if those courtesies weren't met.
Being from New England, my friend is terse and to the point. One states their business and keeps their nose out of what doesn't concern them. How I am is no concern of yours. Well, like I noticed with the waves, these consistencies have their own idiosyncrasies — expectations should take into account the direction and force of the wind.
The day after the tow, the wind seemed to still be blowing strong. "I got a flat." "Excuse me?" I said into the phone. "You heard me." Disgruntled, she challenged me to laugh at her situation. Just down the street this time. I set about finishing my work and gave her the AAA number to call.
When I got there, she was fuming. "How can these people not know the area? Can't they do a MapQuest? You have to call them back." Several phone calls later, we finally got the location communicated. The flat was changed, and we were on our way.
On the third day, when she was charged an extra $140 for something she hadn't ordered, I was curious to hear her response. She trimmed her sails, tacked into the wind, and rode out the disturbance.
Patterns are everywhere. Some are as obvious as the waves, or a streak of bad luck. Patterns create habits — sometimes becoming so deeply ingrained that we don't notice anymore their results, or the consequences. But that rock in the middle of the beach — the one being worn down slowly but surely by the waves — that rock too has the power to move aside the water, allowing it to flow to one side or the other.
What struck me most deeply is that it is the combination of patterns that creates an interaction, a relationship that can break a habit and allow a change. We are surrounded by relationships, and yet in this "modern" world we try so hard to get beyond them.
To save time, we've created ways to avoid the intimate art of saying hello. When I was in The Gambia, one would ask, "How are you and your family?" at least five times before stating any other kind of business, or even just passing you by. The same goes for our relationships with nature. In the name of being civilized, we have built walls around ourselves, often without even the window of illusion that connects us to the outside world of green and growth.
This intimacy allows not only for a connection and bond to occur, but also a sacredness to develop within the relationship leading to a depth of acknowledgment that we are all part of the larger whole. This is the way Martin Buber hoped to define the nature of reality as we engage in an "I and Thou" dialogue with each other, with the world, and with God.
What kind of a pattern can we forge if we allow ourselves a relationship that wakes to greet the sun, hug our partner, smile at our neighbor, stroke the cat, breathe deeply of the life-giving air that surrounds us, both inside and out, and approaches the day's work with care and concern, patience and peace?
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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Sitting on the beach — the waves are rolling, smoothly, consistently, tickling my toes. Slowly but surely, they make their way closer and closer to my blanket. Not as consistent as they seem, I'm thinking. Suddenly the wind picks up, as do the waves. That large one is quite a bit larger and rougher than before. Still there is a pattern here that tells of rotations, moon and tide.
In my last column, I told you about the towing of my car. My friend and I had been talking about the character of the people in this area — slow-moving, expecting the courtesy and friendliness of a hello, how are you, but quick to take offense if those courtesies weren't met.
Being from New England, my friend is terse and to the point. One states their business and keeps their nose out of what doesn't concern them. How I am is no concern of yours. Well, like I noticed with the waves, these consistencies have their own idiosyncrasies — expectations should take into account the direction and force of the wind.
The day after the tow, the wind seemed to still be blowing strong. "I got a flat." "Excuse me?" I said into the phone. "You heard me." Disgruntled, she challenged me to laugh at her situation. Just down the street this time. I set about finishing my work and gave her the AAA number to call.
When I got there, she was fuming. "How can these people not know the area? Can't they do a MapQuest? You have to call them back." Several phone calls later, we finally got the location communicated. The flat was changed, and we were on our way.
On the third day, when she was charged an extra $140 for something she hadn't ordered, I was curious to hear her response. She trimmed her sails, tacked into the wind, and rode out the disturbance.
Patterns are everywhere. Some are as obvious as the waves, or a streak of bad luck. Patterns create habits — sometimes becoming so deeply ingrained that we don't notice anymore their results, or the consequences. But that rock in the middle of the beach — the one being worn down slowly but surely by the waves — that rock too has the power to move aside the water, allowing it to flow to one side or the other.
What struck me most deeply is that it is the combination of patterns that creates an interaction, a relationship that can break a habit and allow a change. We are surrounded by relationships, and yet in this "modern" world we try so hard to get beyond them.
To save time, we've created ways to avoid the intimate art of saying hello. When I was in The Gambia, one would ask, "How are you and your family?" at least five times before stating any other kind of business, or even just passing you by. The same goes for our relationships with nature. In the name of being civilized, we have built walls around ourselves, often without even the window of illusion that connects us to the outside world of green and growth.
This intimacy allows not only for a connection and bond to occur, but also a sacredness to develop within the relationship leading to a depth of acknowledgment that we are all part of the larger whole. This is the way Martin Buber hoped to define the nature of reality as we engage in an "I and Thou" dialogue with each other, with the world, and with God.
What kind of a pattern can we forge if we allow ourselves a relationship that wakes to greet the sun, hug our partner, smile at our neighbor, stroke the cat, breathe deeply of the life-giving air that surrounds us, both inside and out, and approaches the day's work with care and concern, patience and peace?
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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