4/28/24

A walk in a Canadian forest.

Today I took a walk in a Canadian forest. I am on the west coast of Canada near Vancouver for my last master’s residency. I’ve known most of my cohort for more than two years now. We’ve been through impersonal online classes together, slightly more personal zoom classes, and intimate condensed residencies. This is our second and last residency, and we’re in Canada for it. Not the part of Canada where the school is located, but the city where some of the professors live. It’s beautiful here. Wet. I love the flora that comes from very wet places. Today we hiked a short trail called Teapot Hill.

How does one put into words what cannot be comprehended or described? That is the attempt of this whole blog project. Sometimes I step into a world occupied for millennia by trees and cannot take it in. My eyes communicate to my brain that I am looking at something beautiful, but my body does not react appropriately. I do not feel what I should feel to the degree my brain is trying to communicate. There is a roadblock somewhere. I can ooh and aah with the best of them because I know I should, but something is wrong. I cannot take it in. The feelings are not there, just the knowledge that I should feel.

What I see is this: Trees. Moss. Ferns. Water. Rocks. Fungus. Stumps. Trees covered with moss. Ferns growing from the ground, the moss, the tree stumps, Water dripping from the sky, from every branch and frond, and moss particle. Water flowing down the mountain sides, through rock formations and stumps, down in the gully. A large lake. Fungus grows where the moss has left room on the stumps and at the bases of trees. I also see teapots. Teapots on random stumps and branches and nestled in crevices of trees. Sometimes a teacup or the lid only of a teapot. Some are cute with animal shapes, some are beautiful and intricate. Some are metallic or painted gold. One had a Canadian flag. And one rubber duck. Not a teapot at all.

The path was gravely with the natural rocks of the place, which was good because the ground would have been slick otherwise, and we were going up—up to see the view of a lake if the rain permitted. But when I would peer into the forest off the path I would get that feeling—that feeling that I was supposed to feel. I could wonder but only to an extent. I sometimes get frustrated in these times, but this time I just allowed myself to be and enjoy as much of it as I could.

Part of the enjoyment was to be with my friends. Andre, Gad, Taylor, Joey, Virginia, and Steve were with me, and I love them. We had silly conversation, and informational conversation, and some deep conversation. I am learning in many ways to just relax into situations rather than try to squeeze out of them what I think might be there. I have lived that way before—trying to get out of a situation what my mind tells me is possible, trying to make something happen that is worthy of the possibilities. But then I just stress and my head floats above my body and I get awkward and I crash in disappointment at the end. So, I ride along full-well knowing it could be more. But I don’t know how to make it more without great cost.

It is enough to BE with my dear friends. It is enough to KNOW that I am in a beautiful place. It is enough to feel as much as I am feeling. It is enough to smile knowingly to myself and the funny joke that is in my mind and my capacity to take in. Dopamine is great, but it has fucked me up, I guess. It will take time washing myself in the natural beauty of the world to get back what should be mine.