In lieu of a note this Monday, a poem. But first…
I woke up this morning to learn that a piece I finished writing just last night was published this morning over at 3 Quarks Daily. It’s called The Fantasy of Frictionless Friendship: why AIs can’t be friends. I’ll be publishing it soon here on my Substack. But I encourage you to support 3QD and my monthly columns there by reading it—fresh out of my head—over there first! If you’re interested in friendship or AI, I’m confident this essay will offer you some fresh food for thought.
In the meantime, here’s a short beautiful poem by David Wagoner. I’m struck by how just reading it has a calming and grounding effect, as though the poem itself were the forest.
Lost Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you. - David Wagoner 1972
Grateful for this as I start a trek through the Kii mountains this morning!
I regard myself as an orthodox Christian, but I add the belief that everything that exists has spirit. This is the perspective of Native Americans. Indeed, how could something created by Spirit not possess spirit? I am particularly in tune with the spirit of woods and mountains. I agree that the vibe that comes off forests is an intense sense of "Hereness." An emphatic, “You are here,” which is exactly what the poem expresses so well.
When I'm on a mountain I tune in to the thought that is being thought by the rock. It may take a mountain a thousand years to complete a thought, but you can listen to that thought vibrating inside the rock.