Give life your wild attention
“To pay attention / this is our endless and proper work.” Mary Oliver
(Thank you for your patience as I took some time to rest and recentre during what is inevitably a busy summer period, I appreciate your support)
The world is asking for your attention — your wild attention.
It’s a hot summer’s day. I’m currently house and cat sitting in Devon. It’s been many years since I’ve been in this part of the UK, and I am awe of the landscape here. Seagulls squaking on the horizon; tight-coombed valleys, awash with the haze of the setting sun. Birds traversing the wide open blue sky. It’s been wonderful to wake up in the morning, tip-toe down the stairs, feed the cat, then step into the garden which looks out over the undualting hills of green. I put my bare feet into the dewy grass, where spiders have been busy weaving their webs, and breathe in the morning air.
I find solace in the wild places. It’s also a place where I can drop into my writing most comfortably. When our attention turns to wild places, we enter into an all-encompassing presence that engages the senses. We are no longer separate, but mingle and co-create with the world.
As Linda Cracknell writes in, Writing Landscapes.
Sometimes I’ve felt as if the script is already waiting to be found, that simply paying attention can tease words from the cracks in rock or allow me to hear them in a crow’s cackle
We are no longer separate, but part of the world. Giving our attention is an act of care, not only for ourselves, but for what we are giving our attention to. I am reminded of Mary Oliver’s poem, ‘Yes!No!’
To pay attention / this is our endless and proper work.
Mary Oliver
Attention is a form of nourishment. For example, you take a walk in your local woodland. In the example of non-attention, you walk lost in thought, your head held low, your eyes averted to the floor. However, when you are giving life your attention, your eyes are moving over the canopy of trees; you watch the wind rustle the leaves, and the sun illuminating the moss covering the trees in a blanket of soft, emerald green. You hear the sound of each footstep; the chorus of bird song; the barking of dogs in a nearby field; the screech of tires on the road. You smell the earth after last nights rain, thick and heavy with pollen. A ripeness fills the air. You breathe it all in, experience it all.
These are the essentials: the script and scrape of the landscape, allowing us to rediscover our own creatureliness within the thickets of the world, but also connect better with our humanity and find for it a voice.
- Writing Landscapes, Linda Cracknell
I love the way Cracknell phrases this embodiment with the world as rediscovering “our own creatureliness within the thickets of the world.” With attention, comes embodiment. We remember our wild animals bodies, and return to being in relationship with the world.
I want to share some moments where my attention turned to the wild places, and I remembered to journal these moments:
I remember water and skin colliding. A green mass of water; tadpoles swim around us, in their watery home. Cold water that knocks the air out of your lungs. Light that shimmers on the surface of the water. Insects illuminated by a setting sun.
…
Amazing, how a single breeze can bring me back. The soft warmth, a gentle caress against my cheek. A deep inhale. The way the breeze makes me feel like a leaf, gently rustled, a chorus of movement, yet bound to the body of the tree. I am a leaf dancing with the breeze. Not separate, but one with it all.
Thank you for being here! I’d love to know what you think of these pieces, or what you would like to see more of, so please leave a comment to help guide me and the writing I am creating. The Process letter that accompanies this newseltter for paid subscribers will be love tomorrow! It’ll include a creative exercise which hopefully you’ll love.
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Hi, I’m Hannah!
I'm a writer & creative mentor based in the UK, a regular writing contributor to the transformational learning platform, Advaya, and work within the climate space focusing on fostering resilience amongst young people. I’m also a student of Zen Buddhism, an avid reader, and a lover of the natural world.
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Beautiful post!
The writing landscapes book sounds wonderful, I will have to try and get a copy.
I loved “In the example of non-attention, you walk lost in thought, your head held low, your eyes averted to the floor. However, when you are giving life your attention, your eyes are moving over the canopy of trees; you watch the wind rustle the leaves, and the sun illuminating the moss covering the trees in a blanket of soft, emerald green.”