But objects and land doesn’t give off indifference to you. You feel more from them. They dance in front of your eyes, and sing aloud to reach you. They collectively compose the scene and join in your meditation.
Maybe the close fixation on your alienation made you feel closer to objects and land, as another non-human member of the anthropocene.
I took a hike along the river west of Mannahatta (Manhattan). There was an ongoing light shower that I was not prepared for.
I walked thinking about the river as a non-human friend. I thought about all life that receives support from it.
I walked off the asphalt path to be closer to the shore and I stayed on the haki (soil). I noticed the a narrow trail made by human traffic and along it. I would see other trails that would divert away into more obscure locations, where there was more foliage, rocky, and steeper declines. Curious to see where other people have been, wondering what they have been doing out of sight.
I saw the great bridge that stretches over the river I’m feeling responsible for. I’m taken by it’s scale as usual. Seeing it disappear into the fog, adds greater emphasis its “tallness”.
The river that flows two/both ways. When I got to stand on the sand, the closest I can be to the water while remaining on land, I watch and listen to its flow. It gets loud and excited, then calms and becomes quiet.