Our men’s group met last week. We span four decades, and it was the arc of our chronology that dominated our dialogue. Whatever our respective ages, we face the unknowns that accompany walking into that landscape for the first time.
Three of us are in the “sandwich” years, directly caring both for children and parents. Two are exploring what it means to retire and when. Two have done so. Each of us dances with our partners in ever-evolving relationships. None of us has ever been here before.
Always the task beckons: how do we define ourselves within the unknowns of each stage of life? What insights and perspectives do we bring forward from the past to guide us? What baggage do we leave behind? What are the treasures of this time to embrace and the trolls to beware of?
As each member of our group has chosen to live where we do in a small town near lakes and hills and remote forests, the words of Wendell Berry resonate, reminding us of the adventures to which life calls us.
Always in big woods when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement, a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the unknown, and it is your first bond with the wilderness you are going into. What you are doing is exploring. You are undertaking the first experience, not of the place, but of yourself in that place. It is an experience of our essential loneliness; for nobody can discover the world for anybody else. It is only after we have discovered it for ourselves that it becomes a common ground and a common bond, and we cease to be alone.
sacredlead 
Great Wendell Berry quote
Thanks
🙂
Hits the nail on the head ! You need to mention the importance of the spreadsheet too !
Thank you for your observation and your sharing guidance, my friend Rich
Exercising some editorial privilege. 🙂
Bob,
This is a wonderful post. Thank you for sharing this quote from WB – and for sharing you!
Pete
Thanks for the encouragement, Pete. Onward…
Bob, Reading Wendell Berry comes just after our church choir’s singing for Earth Day a setting of his poem “The Peace of Wild Things”. It’s very special.
“When despair for the world grows in me And I wake in the night at the least sound In fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, And the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things Who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and I am free.
Love, Lynne
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“The Peace of Wild Things” is another favorite of his poetry. What a joy for you to be singing it for Earth Day. I hold the image of his “Timbered Choir.” Looking forward to seeing you soon.
Bob:
One of your great strengths is the ability to observe day-to-day events and recognize — within those events — pattens of the essential human condition. All of us who know you benefit from that ability.
And thank you for pointing me back to Wendell Berry, one of my favorite writers and thinkers. He too sees the patterns.
Glenn
Thanks, Glenn, for your affirmations and for sharing the patterns that continue to link our lives.
My “little nagging of dread” happens whenever I enter “the big woods” of any new territory, particularly the unknown, and as I age there are lots of unknowns. Life is like that, I know, but just as change can be good, it can sometimes be difficult. Now that we are putting down permanent roots more than two hours away from our kids and grandkids, I understand a bit of that little nagging of Berry dread, especially when I second guess myself. Should we have moved so far away? Should I spend more time with my grandchildren, less time teaching, more writing? the list can add up quickly. Then I remind myself it’s about trying to make every moment count when it’s counting. I am not so good at that as a worry wart! But then, after a day of Picking away at our little cape, imagining how our grandkids might help to design and build a bunk room upstairs with their Papa for when they come to visit, and after sweeping up sawdust or snips of electrical wire or flattening cardboard, and after Steve and our sons put the last windows in place, at the end of the day we sit outside in our faded camp chairs in the stillness over the mountains darkening, and soon the sounds of quiet birds and frogs and the captivating calls of coyotes echo off the rising moon and I feel fortunate to have second guessed myself in the first place. Thanks for another thoughtful post, Bob. I hope all of my men will continue to teach my little guys how to stop and just be.
What a major “big woods,” Bonnie. Congrats to you, Steve and your family. Love the vision of your grandkids helping to design the space that they will come to enjoy and relish. Talk about making memories!
Thanks so much for this post, Bob. Such a journey we are all on. I really appreciate how you write about it here. And also the Wendell Berry quote. Thank you!
Alan
On several occasions you have played an important role in my wandering through the big woods, Alan. Thank you for that and all the important work you are doing in and for the world. Best,..
Thank you, Bob. You offer a clear view of the essence of our sharing and common bonds. And you remind me of the wisdom of Wendell Berry, and that I have been, of late, neglecting his guidance in these matters. Thank you. Tim
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You’ve stepped into the big woods and into new places more than most of us, Tim. May the challenges and lessons of these next woods bring new joys and perspectives along with the nagging of dread. Best…
Bob, nice writing. I love the Wendell Berry forest exploration metaphor – it is a strong one for me. Thanks for this.
Glad that share Berry’s image and insight, Kim. Thanks for contributing.
Thanks Bob!
🙂