I became so frustrated with life and my process of working, that I stopped painting altogether and sought another way of doing things. Four years passed by, and out of a state of hopelessness that I’d never paint again, I applied to take part in a drawing course working directly from nature. For 5 days, we spent 7 hours each day sitting in the landscape, attempting to draw fleeting movements of Gannets, Guillemots, Razorbills and Kittiwakes. The experience was overwhelming to the point of tears. As I sat in a community of 25 artists, we faced together the reality of our weaknesses and the littleness of our presence, in a vast environment full of complexities, interconnected relationships, and never-ending communication. We experienced an unlearning of fixed ideas and processes, and an unravelling of emotion which laid bare our vulnerabilities.  

In our togetherness of community, we supported each other in this vulnerability and became part of the landscape, intently listening, watching, thinking, interacting, and responding. Our creative outcomes far from matched our engagement, but it didn’t matter, something deeper was at work. We were no longer just observers, it felt as though we had fully integrated into the landscape and spoke the same language. This experience birthed a deep-rooted connection and support for each other within the group, and fostered in us a meaningful appreciation and love for nature. The time was life giving and life changing, and gave me a profound understanding of what happens, when we slow down and sit with each other long enough to take notice.

I sometimes reflect on the Apostle Paul’s words in Romans 8: 20-23, where he speaks about the earth being liberated from the bondage of decay, and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. Paul speaks about this bondage through a groaning of pain. I often wonder, if I sat long enough, even in the most beautiful of landscapes, could I physically hear the earth’s agonising cries?  

This practice of sitting within a landscape in a poise of stillness and curiosity, brings calm to my soul, wonder to my mind and praise to my heart. With my senses fully engaged, I am invited into a place of deep emotional and spiritual connection, raising in me an awe-inspiring sense of admiration and love. I see the hand of the Holy gardener and master craftsman, the originality of design and multiplicity of diversity. But I also hear the cry of longing from my own soul, reminding me that God’s promise of restoration and redemption is for a kingdom so much more beautiful than my mind could imagine.  As I sit with the reality of my declining body and a decaying earth, I recognise that my waiting for this redemption is not passive, but one were I need to generate this love into action and nurture the precious gift of life God has given me.

Feature image: ‘Crosses in the Sky’, Celebration of Gannets at Bass Rock, Mixed Media

As our brother Bayo Akomolafe shared: we are more bacteria than we are human. We have more bacterial cells than human cells. We are emergent and interconnected.

Science is suggesting what Indigenous peoples, witches and medicine men and women have known for centuries- that Earth is interconnected and alive, not separate but inclusive of us as a human animal species.

The water we drink is Ocean. Loch and River. It is blood and sweat and tears. It is Spirit and Life.

Our outbreath is the inbreath of trees and Forest.

In a less romantic but no less real or true sense, the toxins we put into our soil, air and water re-enter our own systems. The plastics we wear and use everyday are all part of and (try to) return to Earth.

And at the same time, we have co-constructed and constantly contribute to complex human-centric systems such as capitalism, colonialism and consumerism. We are complicit in our conflict with Earth, at war with ourselves. Even though we may not want to be. What a bind we are in. The myth of individualism allows us to deny this truth by letting us believe we can escape our complicity and wash away our guilt by recycling and buying green energy and planting wild flowers for bees. These are important actions but not if moral righteousness means we move further from more true reconciliation and the revolutionary, truly transformative action we need and deeply long for.

We are clogging our internal Rivers with toxins just as we are trying to clean up our external Rivers with community litter picks. This litter is then burned or buried or shipped overseas. Where it it out of sight and out of mind. In these out of sight out of mind places of our planet we are wounded and hurting. Places of neglect and abuse and exploitation. Where our human and more-than-human Brothers and Sisters are wounded and dying. Just as within our bodies, we are cutting off the parts of ourselves which are crying out for attention.

Reconciliation with Earth begins with me. It begins with my body. With reconnecting to the disassociated parts of myself, mind and this soft mammalian body. For me reconciliation with Earth began with my gut. For years I binged on sugar and salty foods and then compulsively exercised, a form of bulemia and body dysmorphia. My compulsive eating left me bloated and uncomfortable and probably in more pain than I was able to feel at the time. Somehow the human body can compartmentalise and numb on order to cope and survive. Incredible and necessary coping and survival mechanisms. Just as the human collective can turn its back on humans who are part of our collective human body. Just as part of Earth we disown and destroy ourselves. I am learning to reconnect with parts of my body and mind I was previously ashamed of. Parts that were painful or uncomfortable.

Through self-massage, herbal medicine, meditation and a mysterious more-than-human magic I am spiralling towards healing. And I have to hope and have faith that our human family are spiralling towards healing, health and wholeness as well.

Reconciliation to me means Solidarity. Solidarity to me means that those of us who are able to turn away from our collective pain turn back towards and face it, feel it, witness it and transform it if we can. And even when we can’t, which let’s face it is most of the time, we are still willing to witness our wounds and tend to them, be with those thorns we play a part in perpetuating.

I pray that we will walk together the path of peace and reconciliation, praying for a destination but experiencing the pain, discomforts and joys of the journey.

Image credit: River Don in Sheffield after floods in 2018, source Daily Mail https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5796715/amp/River-clogged-foul-smelling-sludge-rubbish-finally-cleared.html

Moving to Oregon has offered me an incredible new perspective. Whether that means packing your trash out after camping, recycling as a hobby, buying reusable products, biking instead of driving, looking for used items before buying new things…these are all radical changes for the way I was raised. And, I still have a long way to go. 

Surprisingly, my kids have become my best teachers. They go to a public school which has the goal of producing zero-waste. What a brilliant idea! My oldest is devastated by micro plastics which are digested in fish and other small animals— and his care is contagious. We read books and watch documentaries about caring for the earth amidst the global warming crisis and this has become very interesting and intriguing to me. Wall-e is one of their all-time favorite movies, and a constant reminder that we need to live purposefully.

From the very beginning of Genesis, as God is at work making the earth, we see that creation provides us with a direct link back to our Creator. As I unlearn behaviors, I long to look at the wonder of creation and take time to consider the mystery of belonging to a very creative God—not just myself, but all of creation. I long to notice the yearly cycles of the seasons and consider the Spirit, restoring all things to Christ. I hope to bring restoration to my small patch of earth and be reminded of my place as a co-sustainer in partnership with my loving Creator.

The high desert in Oregon is difficult to work—the growing season is short and the temperatures are drastic. However, I want to learn how to restore the land to native habitats. I think this begins by learning about native plants and learning from different experts, such as Think Wild and other non-profits located in our city. ARocha is another global non-profit that has a lot to offer in regards to restoring people and places to the Earth. I also want to learn more about water-wise gardening growing food in a green house. 

My heart breaks for the damage we have done to the Earth and longs to be a part of the solution before it becomes even worse.