My last essay argued that we become truly human only by attaching ourselves to our physical surroundings (our sense of place) through daily, intimate interactions (rituals) with fellow community members, all conducted within the overarching rhythms of Nature.
Since then, I have come across a quote by Albert Borgman that serves as a perfect metaphor for becoming human at our highest level. (Of course, in today’s world, it would be more gender-tolerant as to who performs which roles.)
“It was a focus, a hearth, a place that gathered the work and leisure of a family and gave the house its center. Its coldness marked the morning, and the spreading of its warmth the beginning of the day … The mother built the fire, the children kept the firebox filled, and the father cut the firewood. It provided for the entire family a regular and bodily engagement with the rhythm of the seasons that was woven together of the threat of cold and the solace of warmth, the smell of wood smoke, the exertion of sawing and of carrying, the teaching of skills and the fidelity to daily tasks.”
That statement may seem trivial today, as both doctors and wellness experts now agree that exercise and socializing are crucial for good health. However, the way it’s practiced now is a shallow distortion of what Borgman intended.
Over the years, I’ve learned from the school of hard knocks that I must exercise to feel vibrant and alive. But, as Borgman indicates, to show real dividends, my regimen must be connected to something bigger than myself. It doesn’t work for me to attempt to multitask by pedaling my exercise bike while watching TV. To feel vibrantly alive, I must participate in something more, like immersing myself in nature, even if it’s only the woods behind my house.
I listen to the sound of song birds and my raven, hear the rustle of leaves and the cracking of twigs as I tread forward, feeling the cool shadows and the warmth of the sun in the clearings, all the while admiring my fine stand of trees that I have nurtured over my lifetime from the desolate, clear-cut land I inherited.
Exercising like this, I feel truly alive and one with the world. Needless to say, I get the same high when I walk anywhere in nature. The same goes for socializing. It doesn’t count to tweet with your friends while dodging traffic, or standing in line at Hannaford’s. For it to work, one needs to pay close attention and listen, like going to lunch together.
But I’m not finished yet: Borgman’s metaphor evokes an even deeper level. Exercising and socializing only fulfill their ultimate purpose when they are done together for a shared goal.
Sadly, we have increasingly lost that civic-mindedness, such as going to PTA meetings, serving on a local board, or volunteering at a soup kitchen. These are sacred rituals. Over time, we have outsourced these duties to professionals who now often feel detached from us. Meanwhile, politicians have become insular and entitled, as if only they know what’s best.
Never has this become clearer than when Donald Trump took the reigns, who wasn’t invested in guiding our democracy but in becoming our king. How could we make such a mistake? Electing Trump, hoping for good economic times, but instead getting a professional game-show host who has risen from obscurity through grift and doing the only thing he knows how to do: dividing us against us, one against the other.
This leads me in a long, meandering way to today’s huge No Kings Day Protest, which is a real red-letter day: It will be long celebrated in history as the day that we, the people, took back our country.
Jean Stimmell, retired stone mason and psychotherapist, lives in Northwood and blogs at jstim.substack.com.