Nourishing Ecologies
Writing as a generative practice.
Dear relatives,
Hello from Portland. I am visiting a dear friend in the largest city in Oregon, and today I head back to the Midwest. I am writing from my friend’s home, which is filled with plants that he lovingly nurtures. It’s 3:00 AM and I am preparing myself for the long journey home. Before I begin, I notice the tendrils of an ivy vine dance with the wind coming through the window. There is a stillness akin to the feeling of watching the sunset on the horizon or witnessing the glow of the morning sun through a blanket of fog. The abundance and the beauty of it all is palpable.
This week I’ve traveled more than I have in the past three years. Jetting between cities and time zones, I reminisce on a time in my life when this transience was routine. My writing practice looked different then, but it was present nonetheless. And the inspiration seemed endless. I think traveling has a way of rooting us into creativity and curiosity, at least, it does for me. There is a heightened sense of attention or alertness. When I set my intention to be fully present, this attunement to place becomes a part of me; I embody it. Giving attention, in this way, to who and what is present is an act of reciprocity. I nourish and am nourished through this devotion.
Our reading this week, “What Nourishes Your Writing Ecosystem?” comes from Afro-Taíno writer and professor Jamie Figueroa. In this essay, Figueroa invites readers to join with her in a process of recognition: that we are nature, and are therefore intrinsically connected to a wider ecology. In my clinical practice, the central focus is to honor the inner ecology of the people that I work with. When I apply this to my life and creative practice, it is clear that a land-based perspective is also generative, as Figueroa writes, “When we return to nature, to ourselves, and are receptive, listening with our inner ear—the same inner ear that listens for the lines of the essay trying to germinate, or the character whispering to us, or the rhythm of the poem fluttering—what awaits is our unique knowing of the habitat, of our ecosystem, that supports and sustains the flourishing of our lives both on and off the page.”
This trip helped me to see that, to understand what nourishes my writing ecosystem, I must be conscious of and with the world, which often means going into the messy middle; the overgrowth; and the devastation. To ask, honestly and with compassion, who is here, and who is missing? Where I am in this moment is equally important as the places I’ve been, and the geography of these lands has profoundly shaped who I am. It is appropriate to return to kindred homes, for they enable us to keep and nurture our stories.
Similar to Figueroa, breathwork is an essential practice for my life, generally. Other elements that I find deeply nourishing for my writing ecosystem include walks outside; cooking warm meals and sharing food with my loved ones; good coffee, and trying new coffee shops; moving my body, and sweating; listening to music, old and new; deep conversations that defy the boundaries of time; being accountable in my relationships, and reducing harm at the onset; belly laughing with my son; and living to the point of tears (thank you, Lesley, for always reminding me).
Relative, I’d love to hear:
What elements nourish the ecosystem of your life—either a certain aspect or the whole of it?
With gratitude,
Christian
Practice Opportunity
The Seasonal Embodiment Workshop is coming up in September! Paid subscribers have access to both sessions, in September and December. If you are a free subscriber there are sliding scale options available. I will send out a gentle reminder with the connection details on the last Sunday in August, and again about a week out from the date of the gathering. Many thanks to those who have registered!
Listening | Reading | Creating
I heard this song while in Portland on one of my friend’s mixed CDs. It is a new to me tune, and when I listen to it now, the memory of my trip comes to mind. I found this letter from the Poetry Unbound newsletter, written by host Pádraig Ó Tuama, to be in beautiful alignment with our reading for the week. Lots of good memories were created on this trip, and are reminding me every moment can be a work of art.
My, this is lovely. Thank you.
This has been an inspiration for me, thank you. I took the question you asked at the end and wrote a post about it. I gave yo credit for it too, SO thank you