Spearing the kangaroo, Tommy Mcrae (detail)
Try this. Pull a book from the shelf, open it at random, and let your eyes fall where they will. What words jump out at you? Do they hold wisdom, hope, or even an answer to a question you’ve been pondering?
I often find unexpected messages in this way. It’s always a surprise when a seemingly random chain of words speaks to something that’s been on my mind. The Improvised Life blog features this practice in its Opened at Random posts. In his book on creativity, Phil Cousineau writes about engaging in bibliomancy in a Galway bookstore in hopes of finding inspiration. When messages leap from the page to my heart, I call this reading serendipitously.
As spring was about to emerge, I was yearning to re-ground myself in nature, but it was still too cold to spend much time outside. François Cheng’s meditation on the soul, De l’âme, spoke to my need to reconnect with the outdoors.
“Le lien entre l’arbre et les oiseaux semble naturel. Mais l’alliance de l’arbre avec les hommes est-elle assez prise en compte par nous ? Sommes-nous conscients que nous ne pouvons trouver dans la nature compagnon plus fiable et plus durable ? Cet être debout comme nous, qui depuis les profondeurs du sol tend résolument vers le haut, nous rappelle que notre être tient tout autant de la terre que du ciel” (118-119).
“The connection between tree and birds seems natural. But the union of tree with man, do we consider it enough? Are we aware that we can find no more reliable and durable companion? Like us, this upright being, who, from the depths of the soil stretches resolutely upwards, reminds us that our being holds just as much from the earth as from the sky.”