Deep Time | Contemplative Inquiry

OUR CANINE TEACHERS

From the modern animist perspective of his Unseen Beings: How We Forgot the World Is More Than Human, Erik Jampa Andersson looks at what we owe to our canine friends.

“In our own evolution as a species, non-humans have often played crucial roles. Plants and animals weren’t always just our food and possessions – they were are mentors, companions, even our ancestors.

“There’s one non-human, in particular, whose profound impact on our human story warrants far more recognition … They were descended from the beasts of legend – formidable hunters who commanded vast swathes of land with ferocious might. In many of our myths and legends, they were immortalized as guardians of the underworld and crucial intermediaries between the human and non-human domains. Before we had ever tamed a horse, milked a cow, or sown a field of grain, we had befriended a dog.

“… It’s believed that humans and wolves were gradually drawn together during the perilously harsh conditions of the Last Glacial Maximum [20,000+ years ago: JN]. As our paths began to cross more and more frequently in our pursuit of mutual prey, what likely started as a timid sharing of spoils led to an unusual sense of kinship between the two predators. Wolves were drawn into the warmth of human encampments, and ultimately made themselves quite at home at the foot of our beds. They offered us vital protection, companionship, and a natural ‘security alarm’ in a wild and dangerous world, while we provided them with warmth, food, and evidently also emotional satisfaction.

“Studies of canine intelligence have repeatedly attested to dogs’ advanced capacity for memory, social cognition, inferential learning, and even comprehension (and possible use) of human language. But beyond their clear intelligence, what deserves significantly more attention is the very real impact dogs have had on our own evolutionary trajectory.

“Unlike predators who prefer to prey on weaker animals, wolves thrived as persistence hunters, successfully felling giant mammals by stalking them to exhaustion in well-organized packs. As territorial animals, they also went to the great trouble of staking out their own tribal domains, maintaining a distinctly pastoral lifestyle in complex social groups.

“Such practices were wholly foreign to early humans and other simians, but by the time our ancestors found their footing in the Eurasian wilderness, they had become rather formidable and territorial pack hunters themselves. Researchers suggest that these novel human behaviours were at least partially influenced by our burgeoning relationship with canines, who introduced us to their world, taught us their hunting tricks, and afforded us peace of mind by protecting our settlements against less amiable foes.

“The domestication of dogs was one of the key forces that led to the development of fully modern humans, impacting our relationship with one another and the world at large for many millennia to come”.

(1) Erik Jampa Andersson Unseen Beings: How We Forgot the World is More Than Human Carlsbad, CA & New York City; London; Sydney; New Delhi: Hay House, 2023

August 22, 2023

THE GINKGO TREE

“Higher up, … in the middle of a small clearing, there stood a gigantic ginkgo tree. In the scheme of tiny streets, this was practically the one single unoccupied space, and of course this plot of land was only precisely as big as was necessary for the ancient tree to exist, for it to get both air and sunlight, for it to have enough strength to spread out roots beneath the earth.

Every other plant on the upward inclining streets of the quarter of Fukuine belonged to either something or someone: it was the property, ornament, and decoration, the carefully guarded and cared-for treasure of one or another family building, reaching out from tiny pristine courtyards with blooming or budding branches, the perennially green foliage emerging suddenly next to the eaves of the tiny, hidden gates, or the regularly repeating fence slats …

Only … the ginkgo tree that belonged to nothing and to no one stood by itself in the clearing as if there were’t even anything that it could be tethered to, as if it couldn’t even belong to anything, a kind of unbridled, wild, dangerous being rising high above every building and roof and tree, already with its full fresh crown in the unaccustomedly gentle early spring and with its multitude of peculiar, fan-shaped leaves, or rather leaves that much more resembled a heart cracked down the middle, sighing with the gentle wind.

This was the ginkgo, bearing within itself the numbed depths of innumerable geochronological ages, its thick trunk only able to bear a Shinto rope with its paper streamers, and below, the wild proliferation of a holly bush grown out from one of its sides; the ginkgo, accordingly, was the only one that rose from this peaceful world, and was well visible from below as well, like a kind of tower, because everything else ended up concealing the other things, one house hiding another, one street hidden by another.

Only it – this colossal, and, among all the other plants, frighteningly alien and unknowable ginkgo tree – ascended, and unmistakably, as if it had not arrived her directly from a hundred million years ago, the dark Cretaceous era from which it had originated, so that someone would have to notice it, someone looking up from below, from the direction of the train station, who, having arrived, and searching for the correct direction, would take a look around.”

Extract from: Laszlo Krasznahorkai A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East London: Tuskar Rock Press, 2023. Translated from the Hungarian by Ottilie Mulzet.

NB I have done some minor pruning (…) to keep the focus on the ginkgo. For the sake legibility in this blog format, I have also divided the extract into paragraphs which do not appear in the original text.

August 4, 2022

THE GATEWAY TO TWILIGHT

High summer becomes late summer, in my world, with a gentle movement into the evening of the year. In the picture above, taken a little after 8 pm, I at first feel, as much as see, a suggestion of muting light. On looking up, the blue of the sky seems influenced by a subtle greying effect that is independent of the clouds. Looking down, the buildings are shadowy and their reflections in the water are set within a gathering darkness.

The picture below was taken at 9 pm on the following day. The grey in the sky owes everything to clouds, whereas the orange and yellow are connected to sunset. The latter is reflected in the water, and electric lighting is now also present. The day is changing, but not yet into night. This is an in-between time, twilight. It is its own, extended moment, quietly shifting in the physical world, profoundly influential in my psychic world.

I feel joy with an edge of melancholy. It is a familiar feeling that stretches deeply into my early life, prior to language, older than memory itself. It seems to come from deep time, and to be pre-personal, not just about ‘me’. I am any finite being, moving from day towards night, from summer towards winter, from life towards death. Having shifted decisively away from the zenith, I find myself, for now, in a beautiful moment. The Gloucester docks provide me with a magical space for walking, standing still, experiencing and recording this time.

Contemplative Inquiry

Tag: Deep Time

November 16, 2023