Do bears experience aliveness through a poetic lens?
A musing about other ways of being alive
Watching Wilford The Bear Makes A Bed And Takes A Nap In The Angeles National Forest, I find myself wondering: do bears experience aliveness through a poetic lens?
The bear digs his temporary nest, yawns and stretches, rearranges himself, with such seeming contentment. Does a kind of wild bliss awaken in the bear as the sunshine layers itself onto his resting body? Do delicious moments from his days pass through the bearโs dreams in a poetic haze, saturated in smells inhaled and sensations enjoyed and hunger satisfied and other creatures met?
Is the soil beneath the bearโs back a miracle? The branch the bear rests his foot on a mystery in its availability? The birdsong and the way that the leaves in the trees are gently swayed by passing breezes a wonder?
Does he language his poetic experiences to himself? To other bears? To other creatures? Does he know poetry in the rising of the sun, the setting of the moon, the seasons landing and departing beyond any languaging we human creatures know or would recognise?
Does he, too, enjoy finding sit spots? Does he, too, have favourite trunk flairs? Does he, too, walk himself into place with intention, and care, and hope, and love?
Does he leave squish poetry into the soil beneath his paws, the waterfall of his urine, the arrangement of his scat? Does he see death in the world and make awe-filled musings about aliveness? Does he have moments where the arrangement of bear and more-than-human and place and matter and ecosystems and this Earth and this universe is exquisite, just as they are?
Do bears experience aliveness through a poetic lens? Or does he relate to aliveness through poetry I cannot imagine my way into?
๐๐ป๐๐ถ๐๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐ณ๐ฒ๐น๐น๐ผ๐ ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ผ๐น๐ผ๐ด๐ถ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ ๐๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐
After the usual rearrangings of a new group forming, there is a lovely small group of us that are journeying together as part of the first ๐๐ฟ๐ถ๐๐ถ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ด๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐๐ผ๐ผ๐ธ ๐๐น๐๐ฏ season, and ๐๐ฒโ๐ฑ ๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐บ๐น๐ ๐๐ฒ๐น๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ฒ ๐ฎ ๐๐ผ ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐บ๐ฒ๐บ๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ ๐๐ผ ๐ท๐ผ๐ถ๐ป ๐๐.
The Critical Badger Book Club is an exploration of ourselves, each other, the more-than-human, this world, and the universe through an ecological lens, intended to ignite and deepen ecological curiosity, ecological relationships, and ecological embodiment.
Season dates: ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฑ - ๐๐ก๐ ๐ข๐ ๐ ๐๐ฌ ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฒ
Monthly calls: ๐ญ๐๐ ๐ ๐ข๐ก๐๐๐ฌ ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐๐ ๐ ๐ข๐ก๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ฌ - ๐ญ๐ญ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฃ๐๐ง/๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ง // ๐ฒ - ๐ณ๐ฝ๐บ ๐จ๐ // ๐ณ - ๐ด๐ฝ๐บ ๐๐๐ง, meeting on zoom
Between call voice messages and group organising: ๐ช๐ต๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐ฝ
Cost: ๐๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฒ ๐๐ผ ๐ท๐ผ๐ถ๐ป
Language: ๐๐ป๐ด๐น๐ถ๐๐ต
โ ๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฑ ๐บ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ผ๐๐ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฏ๐ผ๐ผ๐ธ ๐ฐ๐น๐๐ฏ, including how we honour and embody seasonality and how we celebrate study as small and depthful as much as expansive and extensive.


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