How do I win the crowd with a headline like, “Wild is the Wind” when it’s not about Bowie, nor is it about anything that the mob seems interested in lately? Can I express something personal without it being self-exploitative – and still keep readers riveted? Am I even allowed to be poetic anymore in my blogs or must I always dumb it down and go for the popular vote?
May I speak about the wind, wild as it is, that comes off the North Sea, by Dunstanburgh Castle – without giving a personal review of my new blended orgasm G-spot and clitoral stimulator vibrator – and still keep your attention?
Could I keep your interest if I talk about how standing in an ancient stone circle, pummeled by the gale forces of nature somewhere in the middle of England quite possibly changed my life – without throwing in some random racist-political-hate track to spark your curiosity, or, for the sake of gaining page views, how I need to mention that menopause makes some women even hornier than before?
Could I tell you, dear reader, how the wind spoke to me, how one particular stone beckoned me closer, or how I felt I was suddenly privileged to know the entire meaning of life – without backing it up with something truly relevant and undeniably important, such as how many likes my last post got on Facebook, or how that new flowery ‘like’ option is truly engaging and worthy?
Have I mentioned enough of the attention-getters to warrant your further attention now? If not, here: Erect penises, bouncy boobs, wet vaginas, Donald Trump, Hate, Isis, Instagram, Memes…oh, and phones. Yes, phones. And texting. Apps. Did I forget anything?
Having said that, let me tell you how wild is the wind.
Recently, on a trip to England, a friend and I went on a very long road trip to search for that which is rare, wild and ancient. We walked for miles and miles and turned up at Castlerigg stone circle, somewhere near Keswick in Cumbria, North West England.
If you’ve never seen a stone circle – the most famous one being Stonehenge – then you can’t possibly imagine the simplicity of such a crude thing. But such a crude thing, when whipped and lashed by ferocious wind, with only yellow-white hinted glimpses of sunlight poking through clouds of such blue gray density is a thing of great simplicity and power. And I, a mere human amongst elemental giants, felt like I was being made privy to secrets great and small.
Magic is what happens when something is created from nothing, and in order to know nothingness, one has to be made small, stripped of the distraction that defines them. Things like words, beliefs, habits…ideas like ‘me’ ‘opinion’ and ‘will’ must be whittled down until only the core of who we are stands…and if we stand, we must brace ourselves against the truly almighty wind that pulverizes our sense of ego. In other words, you don’t stand in the center of an ancient stone circle and think of how you’re going to write about it on Twitter. And if you do, you’ve lost the point of being there, because the point of being there is to lose yourself to the elements, to lose yourself to the wild, wild wind that whips and lashes.
And the wind did lash. So hard, that I lost myself. My body seemed blown off my skeleton, yet there I stood…and like the stones around me, my skeleton stood solid but soon to be made into dust. For a moment, I became dust and in that moment, there was no time – I was without a body, I became only mind. I had become ethereal.
And then, like the wind that is so wild, I swept up into it and became the element itself and I knew eternity.
One force connects the elements: Love. Love is the ultimate element. To be one with nature is to be content in the moment. Every time we look for more, we invite drama. Every time we choose an ‘add-on’ we forget the truth of our own simplicity. Simplicity is where Love lives.
People speak of God and gods, deities and things outside themselves that are bigger and more powerful. I know nothing greater than Nature, no named thing compares, in fact, all named things are where separation begins…naming things is what we do when we lose focus and suddenly believe we need more than what we have.
We start with naming great big things, calling them gods and deities, and then we become enamored with ‘more’ and our need for more grows, and before long we are surrounded by zillions of distractions. We give each distraction a name and a level of priority on our grid scale of ‘what is important’ and we pay attention to the things on the grid. We defend the named things and lose ourselves to them, forgetting easily how nice it was to live in simplicity. Forgetting the wind.
We sacrifice what is simple for that which is complex, because we are too restless to simply enjoy nature. Look at a cat sitting on a window ledge – she will bask in the sun, mindlessly – perhaps her only distraction will be the birdsong or another cat below. A dog knows no deity or complex thought as he runs along a beach. He is content to be near water, feel sand on his paws.
But not us. Oh no, we need cel phones and religion. We need politics, we need to filter our selfies when we snap ourselves standing in ancient places before we upload them to Instagram. People will defend their distractions, claiming they need them – but do we need so many distractions?
I am one, let me become many. We are gods and we create worlds of complexity – because our human brains just can’t accept simplicity. So, when we drop down to the recognition of one single element – like the wind – it’s absolutely different. And I, who is just as guilty of being a named-things collector as the next sex-toy lover, know that for all my named things, nothing – and I mean NOTHING compares to the solitary and massive force of the elemental wind.
This is the world of the animals. They get it. We have it, but we pass it by because we forget that simplicity is the strongest god of ’em all.