The landscape in the Lakes, near Hesket Newmarket
One of the reasons I have made repeated visits to the Lake District in England is because the land feels porous. It is as if the barriers are fluid and the membrane between earthness and creatureness has been rubbed into a soft and pliant translucence. Being in the landscape of Cumbria makes me feel as though I have receptivity to a wider band of frequencies, both external and internal.
Over the next few days I will be sharing some of the ideas that floated through my consciousness during my visit and found a berth. In other words, keepers.
Sow yourself, cast the inert part of yourself in the furrow. You will recover yourself later in your work.
–Miguel de Unamuno
What a set of concepts from the Basque sage. Sowing one’s self. Coming to know the “inert” part of ourselves. Furrows as open places in the landscape’s surface. Connecting with a mysterious unknown-ness that appears later, transmogrified. This is worth sitting with for a while, in silence.
That expanse of sky. . . so stunning.
And to follow it with that wonderful Unamuno quote: sublime.
Unamuno’s quote speaks volumes to me, lessons that I want to learn in the losing of myself and the finding it again.
It is still resonating in me. I’ve been thinking all week about what is inert in us, what needs to be furrowed in the ground. Rich, loamy thoughts indeed.