'Developing a Sense of Place' (written in 2011)

One man’s place

Rooted in place

Nourished by place

Living and learning in, from, by and of a place

Keefer Lake is the first time as an adult that I experienced being drawn out of myself and becoming a part of a place. It is something to be articulated only on reflection, a moment that is transcendent of conscious expression, a ‘feeling’ of being in a place and of a time that connects you to what is real about the life that we lead. On reflection, I became aware that I had had these experiences before but only as a child and then I am only able to recollect them as distant memories, as smoke is reminiscent of fire – not at all like the real thing. It is the moment and not the writing about it that nourishes one’s soul and connects one to being able to feel reasons for why things are and what our connection to them is.  Although I have no doubt that as a species we are all still capable of this ‘state’-  I unhappily can see that most of us now go an entire lifetime without ever achieving it.

I have this repeating insight each time I speak with a native elder and it seems to happen regardless of the topic of conversation – it is a deep part of their character and it is on display for those whose eyes are open. The insight is simply that we descendants of the European colonists have no real appreciation and understanding of our species natural connection to place, whereas, First Nations people have still this appreciation and understanding even in the face of the most horrible attempts by others to beat it out of them. How often have I fantasized when I see place names of mountains and rivers, of waterfalls and canyons, places to be understood in the absence of their ‘names’, that at the moment they were being named by men triumphantly declaring them ‘observed’ for the first time, there were members of various tribes observing them from an unnoticed distance wondering what they were doing and who have never been given the opportunity to express the simple truth that their ancestors had been a part of these unnamed places for an eternity prior to their “discovery.”

I did something smart a few years ago although I should hardly claim to take credit for the cleverness. It was as much a happy accident and an outcome of my tendency to cross the border from frugality to miserliness that I no longer watch television where I live. On moving to Keefer Lake I chose not to connect the T.V. satellite dish that hung gaudily from our boathouse and moreover - as I expressed it then - “to see what it was like to live without T.V. for a time” - as if that was a brave and unprecedented act. It is now 5 years later, the dish has been taken down and is collecting dust inside the boathouse and - not only have I not missed it - I credit its absence as pre-requisite to having had a series of revelations and insights about myself and my place in the world. I have been allowed to experience a place in a manner that would not have been possible had I consumed television in the manner that most of us do, day in and day out, throughout the world. Television is a killer of joy and a wet blanket draped heavily on learning - learning about the places around you, about oneself, indeed, pretty much about every and anything that is important. I will not bother to speculate why but only take joy from the fact that I now know it to be true! To others I say, try it … you will like it more than you could ever guess.