Find a brooding spot

One of the things that I miss about the covid lockdown times, was the sense of deep peace that seemed to permeate the world. I realise that this period was extremely difficult for many people. But also - there just seemed to be a lot more time and space to just sit and be. Everything slowed down - not out of choice - but things seemed to get slow.

Odilon Redon, Profil Sous Une Arche (1905)

For almost  two years I did a nightly walk ritual - between 8 and 10 pm - just meaderng the silent streets - silent except for the noises of households sharing food, watching TV, socialising on front verandahs. Not many cars. It was extraordinary.

During the day, and between clients, I had a grassy spot in my backyard where I would just go and sit or lay belly down like a lizad on a rock. I also recall this time seemed to breed an extraordinary number of butterflies, and I remember the simple awe, and feeling so blessed to bear witness to them. 

That, and the sun's warmth, the smell of dirt and grass, the soft fur of my cat who also loved my regular visits outside.

It was easier to connect to the mystical experience.

Hold vigil

In a recent essay,  Martin Shaw spoke briefly about the need for “walkabout”. He tells that he does not holiday ever, instead he takes himself on (and also runs) regular silent “wilderness vigils”. He spends 4 days and nights alone in the woods, just like in fairy tales. This is no luxurious glamping experience - but one that is raw and earthy. And where he says, you go to “mark a transition”, “ask big questions”, “let grief settle”, and have “discourse with the earth”.

He’s talking about initiatory moments, threshold moments.

A part of me strongly desires to be contained by a ritual elder, through such an experience. In silence, in a wild space, as I feel too timid and unprepared to embark on a vigil like that solo. I know some of you might already have some grounding and confidence in wilderness - I envy you. But it was a missing experience for me - my path diverged from the wild at around 26,  when I chose to buckle down, study and build a career for the good of myself and my young son. I moved to city, and left the feral(ish) lifestyle that was just starting to emerge behind me - an alternate life.

Shaw understands that at certain times, responsibilities and duty can prevent the “luxury” of such vigil time; and while he says we could “manage our time differently”, in this instance he recommends finding a “brooding spot”. Where you return to regularly, so that over time you know it and it also knows you.

‘Brood’ has fur - it’s grumbling time

Odilon Redon, Centaur, (1900-10)

This is a place you return to regularly, so that over time you know it and it also knows you. So you notice the small and grand shifts of season, weather, occupants. I also love the word “brood” in this context as it evokes a grumbly-growly deep tone. Brood has fur and teeth. If wilderness vigil is out of the question, we can at least commit to establishing a thread to the wild, to place, ancestors, and soul.

Sharon Blackie also talks of this as a mystical experience in her book “The Enchanted Life”, and I can't recall precisely where or when, but in WWRWTW Dr Estes has also encouraged finding a place of your own, that everyone knows about (to know to stay away from it and you!), where it is understood that a woman must be left alone to be.

I’d say this is doable for even urbanites, like most of us are. And good preparation for when we are called toward those ‘for real’ threshold moments and passages; perhaps when we feel "unready".

Where might your brooding spot be? When might your brooding time be?

My grassy spot in my garden was a brooding spot, my night meanders, a brooding trail. I have my yoga mat and meditation cushion- imbued with my vibrations - but perhaps not “broody” and wild enough. And while I do have still have these and other little corners and pockets in my home, garden and neighbourhood, I don't have a particular place I go to anymore with regularity in the semi-wild.

I’ll therefore make a quest of it - I will discover it, be in it, and grumble there, with fur bristling.

Much love,

Mendy 🗝️