The Opposable Thumbs ~ Episode Three

Such a victory! Hurrah! We have an Opposable Thumb and thus We Rise above much of the Mammalian Kingdom and look what we managed to create!

The Smartphone, the Computer, Xbox, Artificial Intelligence, Algorithms, Data Capture. We are all products now.

Surely these technologies have set us apart from the animal kingdom? We are by far the greatest! I hear you defend your prizes.

They have, this so true. Steve Jobs was a hero, Facebook and Amazon, all the computer and game programmers have taken us so far from the realms of nature it is astounding. We rule all of the Kingdom, all is under our dominion, under our opposable thumb!

Nature is left reeling with all we have plundered, vast holes, raging fires, toxic waste dumps and inhuman farming practices. Very few care because the opposable thumb is so seductive… forget twiddling! It can text, tweet, shop and kill. This is so brilliant!

I am so utterly tempted to leave a monumental space here, not to fill it with text…….. rather like the space, waiting gently, in a therapy room, when the client does not speak…..

But: We are so dangerous in our blissed-out-ignorance, you would walk away, bored, looking for something to do with your opposable thumbs.

The Pain of the Past The Fear of the Future…… 2.8 minutes.

It was a total mystery. No one knew. Until it was worked out.

That number is, for pretty much all of you, now, the maximum length of time in a day when you will not be stressed, anxious, horrified, overwhelmed, oppressed, fractious, lonely, sad, depressed or irritated. If you are one of the lucky ones….

In a 24 hour day, that is the absolute maximum that you are prepared to give to stillness.

That is a very lowly number.

It is sitting quietly in a corner, waiting for you to notice that it is there, ready to be with you, to be held, quietly, in the palm of your hand. Your thumb, still and quiet, for just these 2.8 minutes amount of time.

Think about it: can you sit and be still for 2.8 minutes without thinking about something horrid, important, scary? Sitting watching tv does not count, nor looking at a screen. Picking up a pen, that does not count, either… but then…. do you even use a pen any more?

Why be still when there is so much we can do to occupy our minds?

We are the only creatures on the planet able to choose to watch violence, porn, horror and romance! Why sit still, for even a nano-second! When we can Gorge on Possibility, go shopping, play with Bitcoins, scan for likes, swipe right, scroll through reams of violence on the tv apps, hunker down into a rom-com.

Progress is just so wild. Why sit still, why stop? Everything we could ever want is off-world. Hurrah for the internet.

Who, on Earth, wants to sit still?

It is a real question. It is a real question that I am asking you, Darling Reader.

Who, of you Billions on the Planet, wants to be still?

Because I, the writer, wonder if anyone enquires, remembers, or ever knew, what life could be in the stillness, the calm, the quiet.

I do not want to take you prisoner, I promise. Yet surely, you could consider the insanity, the madness, the folly, the losses of: Unable To Be Still for 2.8 Minutes.

Lost in the Pain of the Past The Fear of the Future…. If you need a reminder of how to become still enough to play in these realms please go back to Episode One and revisit A dive, a dip, a trip.

Allow me to distract you. I am certain that was quite shocking, that last piece. It was meant to be so, and now I can see you are shaken.

I take your hand in both of mine, for a moment, like a Doctor, then check your forehead for signs of a fever.

Take a moment and let your heart slow down.

I know, that was mean of me and I am sorry. Too much pressure on you, the thought of being still for so long made you giddy and faint.

Trust me: You are fine: Take a sip of this wonderful water and come and sit beside the bubbling spring with me, in the light rain. You lean back against the mossy bank and tilt your face up to bask in the fine mist.

Nature, in all her Glory, constantly calls out to be noticed…..

I am distracting you now, and your begin to relax. The suffering and shock are easing.

She, The Power of Nature, unfurls and stands tall each morning, her long fingers lighting up the dawn, calling the Sun to Rise. She endlessly puts on stunning displays for us to notice, to stop and cry in awe: Oh! Wow! Look… look at the clouds, the birds, the flowers! Oh!

Please stop. Just for a moment. Stop and look and tell her how beautiful it all is, look up at the rain, the light, the moon, the stars and cry out: Oh! How wondrous!  She, The power of Nature, Pings you!

I promise, if you notice, just for a moment, she will be so thrilled she will get up and do it again tomorrow, with equal equanimity.

And she sends this power out to all the agents of her manifestations.

Trees ping, its a thing. If you have not been aware until now, life will never be the same again: From here on you will be energetically communicated with by trees, beautiful trees, lone trees, still trees, trees you perceive as dead will also reach out and ping you. Trees are the most communicative of her agents!

Next time you are in the woods, or a park, with your headphones on, blissfully unaware, listening to something other than nature…. let a tree, or a row of trees, ask you to notice them. Stop and let them know you have marked the ping.

Put on a piece of music that you love and sing to the tree or multiple of them. I promise, utterly, they will love it, they will adore it, and from there on in you will be asked, each time you pass, to sing again.

You think I jest! Ha! Just you wait!

We are going for a walk. Find your boots and a jacket. No, no phone…

It is a lovely day, it wont be too long and you need to know things that you have forgotten, or may never have been told. So while we walk, let me hold the gate for you, I will help you to understand.

This narrow path is a bit overgrown so don’t walk too close to me or you will be flicked by the branches I pass….

And Boom! A beautiful open landscape has opened up ahead, with a huge horizon and wonderful billowing clouds, the evening sunlight glancing through the trees along the west line.

Oh! I am so happy you came with me!

You turn to me and smile as you loop your arm through mine and we walk up the hill together, in step.

What you need to know is that we are all extraordinary. I sweep my arm wide but you look confused…. there is no one else here…. who is the all?

I do love it when you are concentrating. It makes me want to hug you, but I know we are companions, not friends. I notice how my heart feels, the rush of Oxytocin, and I love how that makes me smile at you. I squeeze your arm and then we stop.

All, is All of This: Nature, in all her abundance. From the tiny dandelion growing in the crack of the pavement, in the heart of the city, to the slender sapling over there, to that massive line of Oaks, Ash and Beeches. The brambles springing to life in the May sun, to the birds’ Divine Chatter and the bee that just swerved past us.

We are All Connected.

You wrinkle your nose. Thinking….

Come, I want to show you my favourite tree. I pull your arm to gently turn you.

It is a huge Oak, a Female Oak Tree, and I have built a relationship with her, over time, over all the years that I have walked this way.

She has many children around her, and a sister, close by. I have asked and been allowed to take three acorns which are now saplings in my garden.

She stands tall, wide and magnificent. As we walk towards her I can feel my sense of happiness rising: she knows I will come to be there with her, and she will allow me to lean against her, to look up at her magnificence and Tap Into Her Stillness.

Stand here beside me and take her in. She Pinged me a long time ago, and I was instantly, magnetically drawn to engage.

You are still and quiet now, watching her being still.

I walk to her huge grey, lichen-covered trunk and place my hand. May I lean? I ask.

You look at me, watch me. I am surprising you, I know.

Come, ask too! You are laughing as you walk up and do the same, looking up as you speak. Then you turn to me and smile again: I can see why you ask!

You follow my lead and stand with your back against her, head touching her trunk.

Relax your face and feel into her. Soften shoulders, ears, get comfortable.

A crow makes a slow flight from the tree line over to us, sitting on a branch just above, looking at us. You gasp at the brazenness. The beautiful black bird with the strong black beak and the shiny black eye comes closer, still, and inspects you. I can see that all of this is unexpected, surprising, amazing, even.

She turns and flaps off, flying so low she barely skims the grass, and there is a round of cawing from the murder of crows waiting to hear all about you. They know me….

A quiet stillness has descended between us. You are gentle, peaceful, contemplative. I say nothing, I give you the space to be a Human, Being……And I return to communing with a tree.

I quite love to whisper these curious facts to you….

I love how much we have forgotten, have not been told. How much we have been seduced into existing anywhere other than in the stillness.

It is stunning to me, endlessly captivating, when I can lean in to you and say things like …..

There is now scientifically proven to be a lumbar cerebrospinal fluid pulse, a wave, moving pulsations of spinal fluid in the cord and the brain, in humans.

I know, I know, you can scoff so quickly, you, the atheist, the pragmatic one…. but you have found me, and you have read thus far. It could be pertinent to presume that you seek something more….

We are sitting under the stairs, in a dimly lit cupboard where the hoover, yes, we can smell it, and the wax polish and dusters live. We can dimly hear a song playing somewhere above us. We are sitting, leaning against the wall, with our arms around our knees, and you are now drawing patterns in the dust on the floorboards with your fingers, chin on one knee…..

What does this mean? You ask. You don’t look up, but I know you are listening to me….

The spinal fluid sends a pulse, from the Sacrum to the brain, continuously, all day, all night. And this pulse that can be felt when you are in states of profound stillness and presence. In fact it can only be felt in these states, and this feeling can be a gentle swaying movement. Indeed: a Pulse.

Am I being serious? You are laughing and I love it. You are intrigued, I have planted a seed and you want me to water it, deep deep down inside your Sacrum.

Yes: We, us, who learn how to sit in a state of utter presence and stillness, through the deep relaxation of the sympathetic stress system, can experience this profound connection to the Divine Within.

Because Yes! This pulsation is believed to be the actual presence of the internal Divine Source or Force.

This is literally we, us, who learn how to sit in a state of utter presence and stillness, manifesting the Divine, experiencing and sitting, gently swaying, in the magical presence of the Internal Divine.

How do we get to the Lumbar Cerebral Spinal Fluid Pulse? You sit up and turn to me, enthusiastic now…

The Sap is Rising, it must be Spring! 

It is an oft used expression from yore, and as we sit in this lovely wood, feeling the late evening sun, thinking about our Communion with the Tree, calm and easy, not much talk, I feel it is time for a last moment…. we are at the end of this episode and you have been so very wonderful.

We are a part of, we are connected to, Nature in all her Divine Glory.

Yes, we have opposable thumbs, but also….. just as we have a pulse of Divine Energy in our body, so do the trees.

They have sap, the sticky fluid that moves in the trunk and, just like us, the sap has its own pulse.

We can hear the pulse of the tree sap if we use a special device that midwives used to use to hear the baby in utero.

A Picard Horn is a wooden earpiece, and if we find one on eBay and walk into a quiet woodland with Mature Trees, in the spring, particularly, after the Spring Equinox…

It just keeps getting More Magical Here! I know!

…We can hear the pulsation of the sap moving. We can commune with their life force, and equally, we can commune with our own. We can Consciously Choose to tap into our own sap as it moves within us.  We need no horn, just Sweet Stillness.

Sit up, sit beautifully, cross-legged, kneeling, in the grass, on a log, I am not attached. Be soft and gentle in yourself. Feel the evening sun warming your face, listen to the birds all calling out their Good Nights, and now you know those blessings are to you, to us, too.

Close your eyes. Calm you face, your forehead, your eyes, ears and mouth. Go back into your face, do it again, make yourself softer, still. Breathe gently, very gently, not deeply.

Put your right hand in your left, relaxed in your lap, and let yourself become Supreme in your Gentleness.

Feel the earth beneath your pelvis or your shins, be aware of the ground, perhaps you are on grass, a mat, on a chair, if your feet are on the ground, feel your soles, even if in shoes on the 37th floor, reach down and feel, through your feet, your pelvis, the ground.

Keep your face and breath soft, hands soft. Send your awareness down, down, down.

Perhaps your breath becomes even gentler.

From way, way, way down, begin to bring your awareness to that small seed, deep in the Sacrum, inside the back of your pelvis. Do you remember? We placed it there, and watered it, earlier.

You have a 4 beat mantra to repeat, in your mind, over and over. In a monotone, like a drum heard from afar.

I Am Di Vine….. gently, over and over, hold the sound in your pelvis, it is the sound of that Seed of Awareness waking up, germinating, swelling, cracking open and beginning to rise up your spine.

To experience Carolyn Cowan in class or workshop please visit her website Credits: Text & concept – Carolyn Cowan. Editing video: Tom Vereker. Sound Mixing: Tati Rabell, Layout: Sophie Budden.

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Booklist: The Secret Life of Plants by Peter Tompkins. The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben. Underland: A Deep Time Journey by Robert Macfarlane. Wilding: The Return of Nature to a British Farm by Isabella Tree. The Overstoryby Richard Powers.

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