FOG
When living in New Orleans I would ponder over an older tradition that really stirred my imagination. Some people, mostly elders who were occasionally accompanied by children, would stand inside patches of fog to listen for subtle traces of sound the fog had collected from the places it had been.
New Orleans fog (at that time, anyway) could be so dense that you felt as if you might bump into someone on the street without ever seeing them. And the fog is so ripe with swamp particles and gazillions of micro-beings that it’s alive in ways other fog just isn’t.
I appreciate the mystique behind the custom of fog-listening and also what it suggests about how we relate to our environment and one another.
Our sense of sight tends to be the most dominant and relied upon of our five senses. When our ability to get from point A to point B is challenged because our vision is impaired (by dense fog, for example) our nervous system automatically recruits our other senses to compensate. So when we can’t rely on sight, our hearing, which tends to be the second-most dominant sense, intensifies and enables us to listen more keenly in order to stay safe and find our way.
The same thing happens when we listen to sound for its own sake--whether live or recorded--at home, outside or anywhere. If the sound we’re listening to is important enough for our survival (like a news report during a hurricane) or really resonates with us (like great music or oratory) our hearing naturally shifts into prominence and can become our dominant sense for the duration of our listen.
When we’re interacting with others we have a more neutral relationship with, we hear them, get the gist of what they mean and move on. And when we’re engaging with those we care more about, we more than hear. We actually listen to them and feel the vibrance of their message because our nervous system is more intimately attuned to theirs.
Listening is more than hearing.
And caring begins with listening.
Listening to the fog also reminds me of the inherent human need to stay attuned to the natural world. All beings, including plants, have a nervous system or some way of sensing and feeling. Forests, deserts and seas hold the nervous systems of many beings, all of which unify to make one larger, more complex nervous system.
Every time we step into forests, deserts and seas, our nervous system’s awe at the powerful presence of the larger nervous system is sweetened by the recognition of mutuality and ancient kinship (especially if it’s been a while). The larger nervous system embraces and co-regulates with our smaller, individual one. Human worries dissipate as we merge with this vast and familiar kindred system. We once again reflect on how good we feel “in nature.”
We might forget that we belong to the natural world, but our nervous system never forgets and breathes a sigh of relief every time we get out of the city, unplug and re-immerse.
LINKS
Selecting links to share in this newsletter is a joy. When I’m looking for stories to include, I find myself examining everything that crosses my desk with a deeper sense of purpose. Compiling stories from our shared cultural field feels like metaphorically gathering friends around a hearth or campfire to process what everyone is individually and collectively going through (or what dominant culture says everyone’s going through.)
This shared examination is another example of nervous system co-regulation. This attunement is consequential and valuable even over the internet. Even when we don’t know the other people participating. Even when only a few people share their thoughts “out loud” in the comments. Especially during these times of division, culture wars, and residual isolation left over from the pandemic.
The links in this post delve into the relationship between listening and caring.
You’ll find art, audio, music, articles, books, a film and an interactive multimedia experience as well as a couple of explorations to try.
Finally, there are calls to action offering ways to help and connect with others in need, namely those in Hawaii.
This is your invitation to listen and be guided deeper into yourself and then back into relationship with others.
EXTRAORDINARY LISTENING
First, take 5 minutes to listen to this by the stunning writer and actress
, if not for yourself, for someone you’d do anything for. By the time you’re done, hopefully, you’re also listening for yourself.There's at least one thing that we hear that isn't a sound, and that's the silence that happens when sounds go away. Buddhists were the first to invite me into the absence of sound as something worth listening to. I practiced silent meditation regularly for six years--a weeklong retreat every few months and weekly practice sessions with a local community. I’m eternally grateful for the guidance. Try it: Illusion proves we “hear” silence.
This sonic journey brings us to the very beginning of sound and song on planet Earth. BONUS: a practice of Playful Listening to encounter sonic vibrations older than terrestrial life, layered with the harmonies and cacophonies of the modern world.
I’m reading the book version of “Lincoln in the Bardo” and am also reveling in the voice narration in the audio version: Nick Offerman, David Sedaris, Don Cheadle, Lena Dunham, Susan Sarandon and Ben Stiller and others. With this novel, I recommend simultaneous reading and listening when you’re able.
Why do so many people stop listening to new music as they get older? The neuroscience of “open-earedness.”
Prepare to groove. Here’s one of my summertime jams. It’s by Danielle Ponder, it’s an eternal mood and also seems to nail my feelings about so many things happening right now. Crank it up, it’s a belter.
Patti Smith honors the artist Brice Marden who passed away this week. A video, a painting, a portrait. And her voice reading a poem. In her special way--a quiet, simple, moving tribute to his greatness.
ORDINARY CARING
“How does a nice, quiet Jewish boy born in New Jersey in 1936 become an audio engineer for Jimi Hendrix, a lesbian separatist, founder of Trans Studies, and the Goddess of Cyberspace?...‘Girl Island’ tells the rollercoaster life story of Sandy Stone, America’s most modest rebel!” How cool does this Kickstarter documentary project sound? They’re collecting the stories of Sandy Stone, a legendary theorist and the creator of trans studies. Donate if you can! Let’s keep this project on our radar.
This Ezra Klein podcast has stuck with me. It’s about the WEIRD: Western, educated, industrialized, rich and democratic among us. An anthropological look at how culture shapes our psyches.
A US congressman introduced legislation to create a federal office to help with the loneliness crisis.
Every few years, I update my CPR certification and always hope I’ll never have to use it because that would mean someone is in distress right in front of me and because CPR itself always seems so physically and psychologically *violent.* Fascinating article by a palliative care physician explaining the history of CPR and why my trepidation is not unfounded.
Emmy-nominated film about Bard College’s prison initiative. They’ve graduated more than 700 people. Two of my friends, Pamela Wallace and Delia Mellis teach in this program. Delia is also a dean. They help people behind bars lift themselves up and I love them for that.
TWO MORE AMAZING BOOKS:
The Lost Journals of Sacajewea This novel by Debra Magpie Earling is a visionary retelling of the life of Sacagewea, who was raised among the Lemhi Shoshone, who is most known for her role as the interpreter/guide for Lewis and Clark's expedition from the midwest to the Pacific Ocean and whom “history” has both erased and over-mythologized to the point that almost nothing written about her is credible. Debra Magpie Earling is an amazingly sensitive and skillful writer. She breathes vivid color and precision into Sacajewea’s story. Earling’s Sacajewea is a potent and powerful force--and this time Sacajawea narrates. Thanks to
for this recommendation.Liberation to the Bone: Histories. Bodies. Futures. by Susan Raffo whose work bridges the personal-political, individual-collective and biological-cultural with grace and ease. She’s a real-life hero who’s mostly functioned offline on the ground in bodywork and movement building. She’s credited with helping form a number of movements including “Healing Justice.” This collection of her writing is published by adrienne maree brown’s Emergent Strategy Series with adrienne maree writing the foreword. If you’re in the helping professions and/or want to embody your values and shape change, this book has the ability to orient you toward the right questions. It’s full of conviction without being preachy. Reading it is guiding me toward reconciliation of issues I’ve long grappled with and is shifting me in ways I can feel but can’t yet name.
HAWAII
Back to fog. In San Francisco where I live, humidity doesn’t generally linger in the very dry air, so we celebrate our clichéd August fog for showing up to do its part in preventing summer forest fires.
Writing those last three words makes my heart break for Hawaii and the many other places currently burning. (The last time I wrote, Greece {where I had just been} was ablaze.)
There’s the continual cycling through of the impulse to “do something.”
And the memory of the California wildfires of 2020-21. The months of toxic-tasting air and waking up one apocalyptic morning to a bright orange sky.
And many of you experienced fires as well. My newsletter on the 2020-21 fires received dozens of replies that grew into dozens of email threads. I appreciated your trust in sharing your stories with me. Part of me wished the threads were public (or at least visible to fellow subscribers) because they were packed with honesty, immediacy and insight.
As always, I hope you’re safe and have what you need. If not, I hope you’re able to ask for support.
And for anyone interested in offering support to the people of Hawaii...
Here’s an emerging guide for collective action and mutual aid.
(Also, please remember to listen to and follow the guidance of local indigenous Hawaiians on the front lines of this fire and other impacts of climate change and over-tourism.)
DONATE TO:
Earnest reflection is also helpful. Reflect on whether and how you’ve vacationed in Hawaii and the cost of over-tourism on the ecosystem and its people and what repair looks like.
Sources: The Slow Factory and anuheanihipalii +
This edition of the newsletter has been a denser one. Thanks so much for your time, attention and continued engagement. Your shares, likes and comments have helped new subscribers find their way here. (((Welcome everyone reading Foster & Flourish for the first time!)))
The comment section is relatively new for us as our 16+ year tradition was to email one another back and forth. You’re welcome to drop your questions and thoughts into the comment section as you’re ready.
In addition to how you’re doing, I’d love to hear your responses to the links above. Which ones did you try? like? have past experience with? want to know more about?
What songs are you listening to and what books are you reading?
And what came up for you around listening, the nervous system, fog, fires or caring? I’m all ears.
With Love + Linkage,
"We might forget that we belong to the natural world, but our nervous system never forgets." Absolutely true and so beautifully said, especially with regards to fog -- much under-appreciated! And thanks for the shout-out -- Debra Earling's writing is one of a kind and so tremendously important in re-storying North American land (especially where I live in what is called Montana) and people.