landscapes and meaning 4

This is the last in a series of 4 blog posts, listing some common features of walks, and suggesting some activities and dialogues to engage in, inspired by metaphors of these features. Since I couldn’t think of a more simple way to arrange these ideas, they are listed in alphabetical order, so this blog post will deal with S-Z. Click here to read the first post covering A-F, here to read the second one G-L and here to read the third, M-R.

stepping stones

Is there anything more tantalising than dry rounded boulders evenly placed across a babbling brook, enticing us over to the other side? Surely few can resist such a crossing? Evocative of childhood afternoons spent damming a stream, and summer holidays on Dartmoor, stepping stones are quite simply charming.

metaphor:

Like a well-planned walking journey, stepping stones are carefully structured, sensibly placed and serve to get you smoothly from A to B. However, crossing a set of stepping stones can feel frightening, un-nerving, destabilizing or edgy as we make up stories about how they may be loose, wet, slippery or unsafe.

invitation:

Notice how you feel as you cross. Take stock of the steps you have made along your life’s journey to get to this point. What steps and choices lie ahead of you? How do you feel as you ‘risk’ each step and ‘let go’ of the stage before?

The struggling rill insensibly is grown      

Into a brook of loud and stately march,     

Crossed ever and anon by plank or arch;  

And, for like use, lo! what might seem a zone       

Chosen for ornament,—stone matched with stone                  

In studied symmetry, with interspace       

For the clear waters to pursue their race  

Without restraint. How swiftly have they flown,  

Succeeding,—still succeeding! Here the child       

Puts, when the high-swollen flood runs fierce and wild,          

His budding courage to the proof; and here          

Declining manhood learns to note the sly  

And sure encroachments of infirmity,        

Thinking how fast time runs, life’s end how near!

‘The Stepping Stones’ by William Wordsworth

tributary

Joining a parent river, a tributary stream seems to express a sense of relief at having made it home. It always amazes me how the two flows mingle together so readily, one effortlessly absorbed into the other. We’ve all seen those striking aerial photos of confluences of two different coloured rivers. And of course, 100 yards downstream, there’s no distinguishing the two.

metaphor:

A tributary is a distinct and separate body with its own pace, features and context. Yet when it meets another stream, it surrenders all this and melds simply with the other, creating in the process something larger and stronger.

breconbeaconstributary

invitation:

Consider a relationship of which you are a part. What do you add to the partnership? What gifts and challenges do you contribute? What parts of yourself do you keep firm and unchanged? Which elements do you choose to surrender and give up? How does the partnership add up to more than the sum of its members?

Smoothed by sleep and ruffled by your dreams  

The surface of the little lake

Fed by unconscious tributary streams,  

Unbroken by the breezes nightmares make,  

Like your face looks fathomless and seems   

Bottomless till light or noises wake.

You move and murmur and almost awake.

I admire but do not wish to enter,

Like any wanderer beside

Moonlit water in midwinter

Who as a simulacrum for the tide

Casting a pebble into the calm centre  

Watches the circles spread from side to side.  

I wait for you and morning at your side.

Such sources feed the mirror of your mind,  

I dare not touch the surface of your sleep.  

But to love by ignorance resigned,

Infatuated guardian, I keep

Watch beside a fountain where I find  

No image, for images too deep,

Above your breathing regular and deep.

 ‘The Lake’ by Daryl Hine

undulations

On a recent cycling holiday, our guide had three categories for describing the day’s route; downulating, undulating and upulating. Suffice to say, the route was never flat. Undulating walks can be very challenging because no sooner have you peaked and triumphed than you descend, only to do it all over again! An upulating walk is of course even worse, and should only be attempted by those of strong mind and thigh!

metaphor:

The undulations of a walk are a perfect metaphor for the natural ups and downs of life, the rollercoaster of existence, and also our moods. Hopefully most of us don’t swing between the extremes, but every one of us experiences positive and negative emotions; some in an upulating direction, some tending towards depression, and some in undulating balance.

invitation:

It can be enormously helpful, with a good friend, to step back and take stock of the general direction of one’s current life, appreciating its overall shape, rather than fixating on minor fluctuations. Eudamonia is a word describing a deep-seated sense of satisfaction which underpins the emotional rollercoaster. Notice in what shape your undercurrent is flowing. Learn to recognize that your emotions are neither ‘good’ nor ‘bad’, simply feelings which will come and go. Remember, “this too shall pass”.

Today was the absolute worst day ever

And don't try to convince me that

There's something good in every day

Because, when you take a closer look,

This world is a pretty evil place.

Even if

Some goodness does shine through once in a while

Satisfaction and happiness don't last.

And it's not true that

It's all in the mind and heart

Because

True happiness can be attained

Only if one's surroundings are good

It's not true that good exists

I'm sure you can agree that

The reality

Creates

My attitude

It's all beyond my control

And you'll never in a million years hear me say

Today was a good day.

by Chanie Gorkin

*Now read the poem line by line in reverse, from the bottom to the top*

valley

There are countless valleys to be enjoyed on walks, and their flatness makes them an added attraction. From wide floodplains, to narrow gorges, with rivers flowing, or dry and glacial, valleys make for easy walking with visible reminders of the geological history which has shaped our landscapes.

metaphor:

The shape of the V makes the word valley almost a visual onomatopoeia; echoing in its appearance the shape of the feature it describes. It is, literally, a V-shaped alley; a corridor for movement. Valleys were the first settled places by the earliest domestic humans, marking our transition from hunter-gatherers to farmers. Valleys are fertile grounds for growth, community and progress.

invitation:

Walk a valley with a friend and create space to open up a discussion about what you want and love in your friendship. Share the times you’ve enjoyed together, and the qualities you value in each other. Speak about where and how you’d like to continue your friendship. How do you wish to grow together? What kinds of things do you want to do together? How can you see yourselves being in support of each other?

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.”

King James Bible, Psalm 23

waterfall

A number of the happiest and most exciting moments of my life have taken place at waterfalls. Waterfalls are quite literally my happy place, and I find them to be sublimely beautiful. The solitary hike and breathtaking sight of an azure torrent in Costa Rica; the wintry swim in a raging plunge pool in the Brecon Beacons; the joyful leaping off a rock in the Borneo rainforest… waterfalls have delighted me my whole life.

metaphor:

Waterfalls epitomize surrender; giving up, giving in, letting go, going with the flow, riding the waves, diving in, sink or swim; take your pick!

invitation:

Jump in. Just do it.

“You never regret a swim.”

Ben Musgrave

IMG_0986.jpg

xroads

X marks the spot on the map; the clearest sign of a choice, a diversion of ways. Crossroads, crosspaths, crossways; all are opportunities to stop, take stock, look back, look forwards and consider one’s options.

metaphor:

The path chosen often feels different than it did when it lay ahead. A route taken looks different in reverse. A choice made resonates with much more clarity than it did as simply one option of many. A life lived can look, from hindsight, more ordered, logical and inevitable than it feels when we are bogged down in the mire of indecision, or embroiled in the chaos of events and the hubbub of everyday matters.

invitation:

Take one path a few steps and look back to picture yourself standing at the decision point. What did you need to hear to get to where you are now? Now go back and stand at the crossroads. Turn to picture yourself standing where you just were. Tell yourself what you need to hear. Try another branch. Speak to yourself as a kindly future you would to a child facing the unknown.

The second half of my life will be black

to the white rind of the old and fading moon.

The second half of my life will be water

over the cracked floor of these desert years.

I will land on my feet this time,

knowing at least two languages and who

my friends are. I will dress for the

occasion, and my hair shall be

whatever color I please.

Everyone will go on celebrating the old

birthday, counting the years as usual,

but I will count myself new from this

inception, this imprint of my own desire.

 

The second half of my life will be swift,

past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,

asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.

The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,

fingers shifting through fine sands,

arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.

There will be new dreams every night,

and the drapes will never be closed.

I will toss my string of keys into a deep

well and old letters into the grate.

 

The second half of my life will be ice

breaking up on the river, rain

soaking the fields, a hand

held out, a fire,

and smoke going

upward, always up.

‘Crossroads’ by Joyce Sutphen

wye river

There are three rivers called Wye in the UK; in Wales, Buckinghamshire and Derbyshire. Known for the mill industry, kayaking and fishing, all three are examples of how business and pleasure meet on Britain’s waterways.

metaphor:

A walk along a riverbank can be particularly mindful and contemplative, since the metaphor of life as a moving journey, with twists and turns like a river is so prevalent. The gentle murmur of the water and the play of light on the surface can add to the soothing effect. Research has shown that spending time around aquatic environments induces a positive mood and reduces stress even more than time spent in green spaces!

invitation:

Take a look at what is working in your life, in business and in pleasure. Figure out why these elements make you happy and what about them you appreciate. And consider also what is not working for you. Ask yourself why not? Perhaps there are aspects you can change? Or an attitude you can cultivate in order to better manage these areas.

How oft—

In darkness and amid the many shapes

Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir

Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,

Have hung upon the beatings of my heart—

How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,

O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,

How often has my spirit turned to thee!

from ‘Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey’ by William Wordsworth

IMG_0219.jpg

zzzzz

It can be an absolute delight on a walk to find a nice warm bank, or dappled clearing, or sheltered spot to lie down and take forty winks. A nap in nature on a warm day is surely one of mankind’s purest pleasures, and one that seems redolent of the buttered crumpets and unhurried kindness of books like ‘The Wind in the Willows’.

metaphor:

Take forty winks, catch some shut-eye, hit the hay; metaphors for sleeping are well embedded in the language.

invitation:

Sleep outside. Whether that’s a quick nap after a picnic on a sunny day, or a night’s bivouac on a mountainside, be sure to experience the delight of a wild sleep. Feel yourself resting as do animals and the seasons. Turn in at sun-down and rise with day-break. Match your pace to that of the natural world, and give yourself permission to do nothing.

No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.

from ‘The Wind in the Willows’ by Kenneth Grahame

I hope you enjoyed this blog, and the other three posts in this series. Do enjoy your walking, this winter and always, and do get in touch if you’d like to explore these and other landscape metaphors in the flesh, on a hearty walk with ipse wilderness!