Every time I write about nature I get deep into human consciousness. You can’t really separate the two. There is no “nature” – no way to identify, quantify, categorize, articulate, or understand it—apart from human consciousness, from how we think and talk about it.
We can’t study or explore or write about nature as something separate from ourselves, our own senses and experiences, our own thinking, perceiving, observations, experimentation. In that sense, nature is subjective, no matter how hard we try to objectify it.
This is not new, of course. Better writers and thinkers, from different disciplines, have explored this in more depth and detail that I can here.
This grand book the universe . . . is written in the language of mathematics, and its characters are triangles, circles, and other geometric figures without which it is humanly impossible to understand a single word of it: without these, one wanders around in a dark labyrinth. —Galileo, Astronomer
All my knowledge of the world, even my scientific knowledge, is gained from my own particular point of view, or from the experience of the world . . . . –Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenologist
We see and hear and otherwise experience very largely as we do because the language habits of our community predispose certain choices of interpretation. –Edward Sapir, Linguist
If the world exists and is not objectively solid and preexisting before I come on the scene, then what is it? The best answer seems to that the world is only a potential and not present without me or you to observe it. . . . All of the world’s many events are potentially present, able to be but not actually seen or felt until one of us sees or feels. –Fred Allen Wolf, Physicist
Ah, not to be cut off,
not through the slightest partition
shut out from the law of the stars.
The inner—what is it?
if not intensified sky,
hurled through with birds and deep
with the winds of homecoming.
-–Rainer Maria Rilke, Poet
The sun shines not on us, but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. –John Muir, Naturalist
At times I feel as if I am spread out over the landscape and inside things, and am myself living in every tree, in the splashing waves, in the clouds and the animals that come and go, in the processions of the seasons. There is nothing . . . with which I am not linked. –Carl Jung, Psychologist
See this rock over there? This rock’s me! –Australian Aborigine
But in the ordinary play of our day, we forget this. We experience everything outside ourselves as “not me,” “alien,” “other.” Even our own bodies are commonly experienced as “not me.” We say “my stomach growled,” or “my foot fell asleep,” or “my sinuses are acting up,” because they seem to act involuntarily, with a mind of their own, without our conscious consent. As does nature, and other people, and the things we create—toasters and cars and computers.
Separating the whole of life and existence into parts is a useful way of talking and thinking about things.
But too often we fail to put everything back together and see how interdependent it all is, how embedded we are in the whole, and the whole in us. When we fail to do so we lose a vital understanding of ourselves and the universe, and we act in ways that may be harmful to the whole.
The see the ocean in a drop of water, to see ourselves in everyone we meet, is not, as some think, merely a poetic and rosy way of looking at the world. It’s to see things as they actually are.
Deborah, Your photos are lovely and your words insightful. This is my personal opinion, but if I were you, I would use fewer quotes in your musings. No matter how wonderful others’ words are–and you’ve picked some great ones–most of your readers are likely most interested in your perspective. A long series of quotes is kind of like a lot of description in a novel: it slows down the “action” or the arc of your thoughts. Thanks for your perspective on life and how we live it.
Thank you, Susan. I appreciate your thoughts, and taking the time to stop by and read this post.
Thank you Deborah. Thought provoking. Usually a muddled, befuddled mess for me…my thoughts that is…
I’m glad you liked it. Writing things out helps me with my befuddled thoughts 🙂
Deborah, you’re right, consciousness and nature are interrelated. I enjoyed reading those wonderful quotes. Here are a few quotes by famous writers to shed light on what you’re saying about your own writing process. The French writer, Gustave Flaubert, said, “The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe. The American playwright Edward Albee said, “Writing has got to be an act of discovery. . . .I write to find out what I’m thinking about.” I have more quotes by writers on my blog. Here’s one of my earliest poems on the writing process simply called “Writing” http://wp.me/pD0BA-1Sy. Keep writing and clarify your life.
Thanks Ken, I liked your poem. I also like the name of your blog “the uncarved block.” You will like the post that comes out tomorrow, which, interestingly, talks of the uncarved block and includes a poem I wrote trying to capture that sense of primordial simplicity and the shattering of walls between self and other.
Thanks, Deborah, I look forward to reading your poem. BTW, the name of my blog is The Uncarved Blog, a play on the word, block. I explain all that in my About section, and in the post, How The Uncarved Blog got its name, which I see you’re visited.
Jane Hirschfield, in her book, Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry, quotes a Talmudic saying: We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are. Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was fond of saying, “The world is as we are.” So the quality of our consciousness colors the way we see things. Change your consciousness, change your world.
I’ll have to check out that book. I’m fascinated by the way the mind works, especially when involved in the creative process. And I agree with the Maharishi about the world being colored by our own consciousness. One of my favorite books is Creativity and Tao by Chang-yuan, which I saw on your blog that you’ve also read. Stumbled across it in a used bookstore years and years ago. Read the first copy to tatters (well, it was pretty old when I bought it). Purchased a new one since. Good stuff.
I tried replying but don’t know if it went through. I wanted to suggest you also read Nine Gates: Entering the mind of poetry, by Jane Hirshfield. I know you’ll love it.
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