|
|
Musings
Turning
Back
I started out my professional career exploring for new species of orchids
in the Montane rain forests of Puerto Rico. At the time it felt as if I
were at the edge of the known world. But really I was just high up in some
mountains, trekking through the shrinking relics of native vegetation that
remained. What I was doing was not so much exploring as cleaning up the
pieces that had been left over by the great European botanists who had
come through a century or two before me. Those men had been the real
explorers.
I had an experience in those mountains, though, that has remained with me.
Perhaps it has taken me overly long to really understand it. It was a
little thing that couldn’t have occupied the space of more than a fraction
of a minute. But it struck so deep, it struck down to so very deep inside
of me, that somehow it changed what I was and perhaps the course that my
life would take. It has taken me these many years to arrive at a sensible
and balanced assessment of that fraction of a minute of my life so that
now I might attempt to frame it in a way that doesn’t do it too much
injustice.
These experiences that go right down to the bottom of us elicit something
from within us that rises up to meet them. And that then comprises the
other side of the experience — something inside us answering as it were to
the outside world, as a dog perks up at the sound of its master’s voice.
That something from within is our self.
I was coming down from the high montane cloud forest, following a mountain
stream through the rain forest that covered the north flank of the
cordillera, when all of a sudden I turned a bend in the stream and was
abruptly startled by a complete change in the forest all around me. All
summer I had been finding new species of Lepanthes orchids along streams
just like this one. But when I turned this particular bend, I was assailed
instead by a startling and abrupt impoverishment of the forest. The
greenery was still there, all round me. There were just as many trees.
There were just as many plants. What was missing, though, was the
diversity. They were all the same trees, all the same plants. The stream
was clogged with a species of sedge introduced from the Old World that I
had
seen cultivated as an ornamental down in the coastal towns (Cyperus
alternifolius). Gone was the primeval richness and diversity that I had
been walking through just a second before. I knew what to expect, but I
walked on anyway, just to see. And indeed, I didn’t have to go far before
some wooden shacks came into view. When you got near civilization, the
richness disappeared.
And it wasn’t just the ecological richness of the forest. Something inside
me noticed too because it was so suddenly and unexpectedly startled that
it jumped and bolted, and I saw it and it ran. It ran for cover. I felt
small again without it — very small and insignificant. I don’t know if
someone who hasn’t spent stretches of time alone in a rain forest can
understand what happens to you when you are there. Probably it is the same
with any environment. Maybe that is why the Native Americans went out into
nature, away from the tribe, alone, when it was time for their
consciousness to ripen.
A second before, I had been a human being walking through a wilderness. I
had been something that was unknown, experiencing the unknown. Now I had
been turned too quickly into my civilized self, my known self, my small
self — and its utter insignificance to me was overpowering. It was a self
alien to me. I stopped in my tracks and turned around and walked back into
the wilderness.
– Dr. William R. Stimson
June 29, 2002
Dr. William R. Stimson left
academia and opted for a life of radical simplicity centering on
meditation, martial arts, yoga, dream analysis and writing. He is the
founder and former editor of the Dream Network Journal and led evening
dream groups in Manhattan. For years he conducted the free all-day
meditation group every Saturday at the Ch'an Meditation Center in
Elmhurst, Queens. His writing on simple living, dreams, meditation and
consciousness has appeared in numerous journals and magazines and can be
found on his website
http://www.my-hope.com/Bill (the B is uppercase). He has recently
moved to Taiwan with his wife Shuyuan Wang. The two lead a dream group in
Taichung and are starting up a meditation group in nearby Wufeng.
Top |
Musings
|
|