A lost culture

“...along with the other animals, the stones, the trees, and the clouds, we ourselves are characters within a huge story that is visibly unfolding all around us, participants within the vast imagination, or Dreaming, of the world.” ― David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World

Culturally, at least in the West, we're one generation deep.

Occasionally, we might reminisce about what went before, but, mostly, we're lead to believe in and brainwashed by the cultural here and now. You know the one that exhorts (among many other malignant traits) 'be all you can be'. 

But if you're prompted, you only have to walk around your local graveyard to understand that there's a little more to our cultural locus than what pops up in your social media feed or even, perhaps, the folklore that's been passed down through the family. 

Of late, largely as a result of work done by my brother, I've been able to reach back in the past -- at least to the 1800s -- to establish that there's a long lineage of Devonians floating about in the ether. I'll be honest, as woo-woo as it might appear, for a while now, I've wondered if there might be something more to my love affair with Devon than the immense landscape and the quiet thrum of the place.

It really is my spiritual home.

And that makes me feel connected -- perhaps more connected than ever. 

What about you?

Do you feel that you've found home?

But it's more than a lived spirit I feel. I also sense that there are rituals and ceremonies that have been elided from my memory that I need to understand. I know there are a few people who might illuminate what might have existed (Dr Martin Shaw comes immediately to mind) but something tells me, as part of my long-overdue pilgrimage, I need to appreciate culturally what binds me to this place.

Anyhow, enjoy your day.

Blessings, 

Julian

Photo by Tyssul Patel on Unsplash