Listened as I dreamily woke up from sleeping.. straight to alert. What a modern Ulysses. And the crux of what that story (in the end if you hadn’t realized it by then) meant.
No greater monster encountered than himself and for Penelope no savior…
I have been pondering recently, in the face of the environmental catastrophe that we are so merrily creating, what drives our madness. I'm conflicted between our innocence and our compliance. The values and activities of "the city" feel like finding both an excuse and an accusation, for our stupidity.
I love your way of understanding it: "No greater monster encountered than himself and for Penelope no savior…" Exactly.
Thanks so much Patris. You have a brilliant way of expressing the essence of things.
Comfortably cushioned in soft leather, I stared unfocused out the window into the endless snow covered branches of birch forest. One hand resting on the head of my 10 month old dog , Ranger.
It was the perfect place to fall into your story.
I didn’t want to leave your forest to go to the city, but your voice gently coaxed me in. I stayed just long enough to see you through. Couldn’t wait to leave.
You escorted me back to my wooded retreat,happy to be home with a now very relaxed pup who seemed to have also been mesmerized by your words put to music by your voice .
“…modern cities with their glass and steel cathedrals towering toward the heavens, arrogantly pointing to another heavenly realm where today’s most civilised now want to send themselves, away from here, away from this earth, away from where monsters be, into the heavens, to become the gods. “
So poignantly written.
“…for those who prefer to listen. I’m still not sure.”
What a beautiful comment (your first sentence sounds like me!). Thank you Lor (and Ranger), I really appreciate the mention of the audio too. I think I’ll get better, more natural maybe, with a little more practice, so I’ll record another previous post to release as well.
Excellent essay Jonathan, I liked the structure going from fairly concrete early on, to give me a bearing and then launching into the more complex ideas.
Ola amigo! Thanks Wes, I really appreciate your kind analysis, it’s good to hear. Funny thing, your description of this essay is also a perfect description of a forest walk with the dog: a structured and concrete experience to get your bearings that launches the mind into a more complex path :) he he, thanks!
Jonathan, Have you read "Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn? With your take on our human world versus the "natural" one, you might find it pretty interesting. Wes
“Here be monsters they proclaimed, fencing off the surrounding world and enclosing themselves in a physical and mental membrane, coronating themselves as the pinnacle of possibility, the shining triumph over so-called savagery, each city a kingdom unto itself.”
What a mesmerising and yet evocative experience this essay was! Johnathan your voice has that fairytale narrator kind of quality, soothing yet powerful.
I am listening to this as I close my day and lay down to sleep but your voice has awakened my heart. Such necessary observation on human greed and selfishness.
Thanks you so much Swarnali. I'm so impressed by your writing so it's a pleasure to have your kind comment. I definitely need to practice reading these pieces, I'd like to record more but you know how it is with time.
I rarely enjoy human voices while walking, though I walk endlessly…
I listened to to your audio recording to this essay whilst out wandering the hill, I stood a second waiting, expecting to want to return immediately to my silent sanctuary only I found I couldn’t… I was beguiled, spellbound…
Suffice to say, I have (in the words of Robert Frost) “…miles to go before I sleep.”
I might know what you mean about walking and listening, if it's about attention. My attention can be overwhelmed by a narrative and then my walk is lessened to some degree, or maybe I'm not attentive to the world like I might want to be. Bandwidth I suppose.
I read the post you sent me and I loved it (and the photographs) very much. It was wonderful. Thank you, I'm really glad to have discovered your stuff. Feel free to suggest something else.
As for me, if you want to take a moment and listen to something else, I am a little bit pleased with this reading (and poetic prose):
It is exactly that, I don’t want distractions, I don’t want to miss those first green shoots on the old oak, or the stoat appearing and lithely disappearing again between mossy stones on the terraces… neither the first call of the golden oriel when they arrive…
All these beauties and much more besides would be missed if my thoughts were elsewhere…
Thank you for reading, I’ll run through and see what I can find that might capture your interest although, honestly… based on your own sublime writing, I will struggle!
May I add, I love to hear the voice of the writer reading their words - I have yet to be this brave myself but listening to your prose and verse, as in that of ‘scribble and shout’ which I loved btw, gives so much more depth to the writing!
I’m going to read through more of your beautiful contemplative writing anyway, so no need to dig through really. I loved your writing.
I also really appreciate hearing a read, although it’s really difficult to do I think. In my reading I think I got better but then I just had enough of trying.
Anyway, have a wonderful day, I’m off to take the dog into the forest :)
What a great prose reflection. Trying to keep an annual or seasonal rhythms is so difficult in these times. And the way you wrote about us vs them was striking.
Just found this. Thanks Brian. I reckon you’ll like the tumbling wind post. Just a feeling. And the delicate one. It feels like you’re working your way through my tapping away and my fires are burning because of it! :)
It feels like such a difference between the “voice” of writing and the voice of the writer. I’m trying to get used to it, so thanks so much for the encouragement.
I’ve got a new one coming tomorrow, a short contemplation on surviving the past and facing the future, so keep an eye (ear) out for that one :)
Another incredible think piece, Jonathan. You always make me contemplate our existence here more deeply and wisely. I wanted to highlight and share so many sections of this piece, because it's filled will brilliant insights and gorgeous writing.
I'm so glad our paths have crossed here - even if it is on these insane screens.
"I'm so glad our paths have crossed here - even if it is on these insane screens." I couldn't have put it better myself Troy!
I often, like all of we writers on Substack I imagine, post something and then wonder if I'm being clear, or if I'm over doing things, or making any sense at all, or being too ornate or too whatever. I often feel like an outsider (in general), with an almost wilful disregard for convention. I don’t aim for those glass cabinets of writing so I don’t write really write fiction, nor creative non-fiction, nor poetry. I'm not sure what I'm doing.
I'm not even sure why I'm writing half the time. I know if I find a place of peaceful, calm contemplation and I will write. And I know when I am lost in a blizzard of fury at the madness of the world, I will write. But why? A need to be admired perhaps. Or to be heard and noticed. Or maybe to be taken seriously as someone with an eye for the things we hide? Or merely to make sense of the world by carving little narratives out of a universe with seemingly no meaning? Who knows why any of us write?
Anyway, the laborious point I'm trying to make is that the comments and faith shown by you, and fellow writers here is invaluable to me in so many ways and I truly am grateful. So thanks Troy, I so glad you enjoyed this piece.
In the end, I think I write in order to share my experiences with others who may have experienced something similar, and in that act feel a little less alone in a world sleepwalking into extinction. My gut tells me that's why you write as well, and why we vibe so strongly off each other's work. Keep writing, my friend. I'm sure that Peter Matthiessen, Rachel Carson, and Henry David Thoreau asked themselves repeatedly what the hell they were doing. They, in turn, were changing the world.
That's a great point and so true. Even if the act of writing seems (and sometimes feels) like a solitary almost introspective pursuit, in fact it's the opposite, it's hyper-social. It's definitely a strange kind of altruism where your always really thinking of others and our shared places in the world. You're right.
Listened as I dreamily woke up from sleeping.. straight to alert. What a modern Ulysses. And the crux of what that story (in the end if you hadn’t realized it by then) meant.
No greater monster encountered than himself and for Penelope no savior…
I have been pondering recently, in the face of the environmental catastrophe that we are so merrily creating, what drives our madness. I'm conflicted between our innocence and our compliance. The values and activities of "the city" feel like finding both an excuse and an accusation, for our stupidity.
I love your way of understanding it: "No greater monster encountered than himself and for Penelope no savior…" Exactly.
Thanks so much Patris. You have a brilliant way of expressing the essence of things.
You put me to shame, then. This was provoked by your words.
Comfortably cushioned in soft leather, I stared unfocused out the window into the endless snow covered branches of birch forest. One hand resting on the head of my 10 month old dog , Ranger.
It was the perfect place to fall into your story.
I didn’t want to leave your forest to go to the city, but your voice gently coaxed me in. I stayed just long enough to see you through. Couldn’t wait to leave.
You escorted me back to my wooded retreat,happy to be home with a now very relaxed pup who seemed to have also been mesmerized by your words put to music by your voice .
“…modern cities with their glass and steel cathedrals towering toward the heavens, arrogantly pointing to another heavenly realm where today’s most civilised now want to send themselves, away from here, away from this earth, away from where monsters be, into the heavens, to become the gods. “
So poignantly written.
“…for those who prefer to listen. I’m still not sure.”
Oh, be sure. I know I am!
What a beautiful comment (your first sentence sounds like me!). Thank you Lor (and Ranger), I really appreciate the mention of the audio too. I think I’ll get better, more natural maybe, with a little more practice, so I’ll record another previous post to release as well.
Enjoy the snow :)
Honestly, your audio really is perfect. It would not have sounded any better had it been mixed in a recording studio.
The resonance of your voice combined with your distinctive accent, and using just the right amount of emotion = don’t over think it.
If you narrate ,
they will come…
"Don't over think it" is always good advice. Thanks Lor. I'll keep that in mind :)
Excellent essay Jonathan, I liked the structure going from fairly concrete early on, to give me a bearing and then launching into the more complex ideas.
Ola amigo! Thanks Wes, I really appreciate your kind analysis, it’s good to hear. Funny thing, your description of this essay is also a perfect description of a forest walk with the dog: a structured and concrete experience to get your bearings that launches the mind into a more complex path :) he he, thanks!
Jonathan, Have you read "Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn? With your take on our human world versus the "natural" one, you might find it pretty interesting. Wes
I haven't Wes, but I will now you've suggested it. Thanks.
“Here be monsters they proclaimed, fencing off the surrounding world and enclosing themselves in a physical and mental membrane, coronating themselves as the pinnacle of possibility, the shining triumph over so-called savagery, each city a kingdom unto itself.”
What a mesmerising and yet evocative experience this essay was! Johnathan your voice has that fairytale narrator kind of quality, soothing yet powerful.
I am listening to this as I close my day and lay down to sleep but your voice has awakened my heart. Such necessary observation on human greed and selfishness.
Thanks you so much Swarnali. I'm so impressed by your writing so it's a pleasure to have your kind comment. I definitely need to practice reading these pieces, I'd like to record more but you know how it is with time.
Anyway, no need to reply. Just sleep now :)
I rarely enjoy human voices while walking, though I walk endlessly…
I listened to to your audio recording to this essay whilst out wandering the hill, I stood a second waiting, expecting to want to return immediately to my silent sanctuary only I found I couldn’t… I was beguiled, spellbound…
Suffice to say, I have (in the words of Robert Frost) “…miles to go before I sleep.”
I might know what you mean about walking and listening, if it's about attention. My attention can be overwhelmed by a narrative and then my walk is lessened to some degree, or maybe I'm not attentive to the world like I might want to be. Bandwidth I suppose.
I read the post you sent me and I loved it (and the photographs) very much. It was wonderful. Thank you, I'm really glad to have discovered your stuff. Feel free to suggest something else.
As for me, if you want to take a moment and listen to something else, I am a little bit pleased with this reading (and poetic prose):
https://jonathanfostersthecrow.substack.com/p/scribble-and-shout
It is exactly that, I don’t want distractions, I don’t want to miss those first green shoots on the old oak, or the stoat appearing and lithely disappearing again between mossy stones on the terraces… neither the first call of the golden oriel when they arrive…
All these beauties and much more besides would be missed if my thoughts were elsewhere…
Thank you for reading, I’ll run through and see what I can find that might capture your interest although, honestly… based on your own sublime writing, I will struggle!
May I add, I love to hear the voice of the writer reading their words - I have yet to be this brave myself but listening to your prose and verse, as in that of ‘scribble and shout’ which I loved btw, gives so much more depth to the writing!
I’m going to read through more of your beautiful contemplative writing anyway, so no need to dig through really. I loved your writing.
I also really appreciate hearing a read, although it’s really difficult to do I think. In my reading I think I got better but then I just had enough of trying.
Anyway, have a wonderful day, I’m off to take the dog into the forest :)
Thank you!
Enjoy… I have a class of 11 year olds waiting…!
What a great prose reflection. Trying to keep an annual or seasonal rhythms is so difficult in these times. And the way you wrote about us vs them was striking.
Just found this. Thanks Brian. I reckon you’ll like the tumbling wind post. Just a feeling. And the delicate one. It feels like you’re working your way through my tapping away and my fires are burning because of it! :)
Yeah, your work really resonates with me. I’m enjoying going back a little while! Anything your most proud of I should go to next??
Recency bias say the last two. But honestly, anything you have to say about any of them would be a fascinating insight. 🙏🏼
LOVED the recording ♥️
Thanks Holly!
It feels like such a difference between the “voice” of writing and the voice of the writer. I’m trying to get used to it, so thanks so much for the encouragement.
I’ve got a new one coming tomorrow, a short contemplation on surviving the past and facing the future, so keep an eye (ear) out for that one :)
Another incredible think piece, Jonathan. You always make me contemplate our existence here more deeply and wisely. I wanted to highlight and share so many sections of this piece, because it's filled will brilliant insights and gorgeous writing.
I'm so glad our paths have crossed here - even if it is on these insane screens.
"I'm so glad our paths have crossed here - even if it is on these insane screens." I couldn't have put it better myself Troy!
I often, like all of we writers on Substack I imagine, post something and then wonder if I'm being clear, or if I'm over doing things, or making any sense at all, or being too ornate or too whatever. I often feel like an outsider (in general), with an almost wilful disregard for convention. I don’t aim for those glass cabinets of writing so I don’t write really write fiction, nor creative non-fiction, nor poetry. I'm not sure what I'm doing.
I'm not even sure why I'm writing half the time. I know if I find a place of peaceful, calm contemplation and I will write. And I know when I am lost in a blizzard of fury at the madness of the world, I will write. But why? A need to be admired perhaps. Or to be heard and noticed. Or maybe to be taken seriously as someone with an eye for the things we hide? Or merely to make sense of the world by carving little narratives out of a universe with seemingly no meaning? Who knows why any of us write?
Anyway, the laborious point I'm trying to make is that the comments and faith shown by you, and fellow writers here is invaluable to me in so many ways and I truly am grateful. So thanks Troy, I so glad you enjoyed this piece.
In the end, I think I write in order to share my experiences with others who may have experienced something similar, and in that act feel a little less alone in a world sleepwalking into extinction. My gut tells me that's why you write as well, and why we vibe so strongly off each other's work. Keep writing, my friend. I'm sure that Peter Matthiessen, Rachel Carson, and Henry David Thoreau asked themselves repeatedly what the hell they were doing. They, in turn, were changing the world.
That's a great point and so true. Even if the act of writing seems (and sometimes feels) like a solitary almost introspective pursuit, in fact it's the opposite, it's hyper-social. It's definitely a strange kind of altruism where your always really thinking of others and our shared places in the world. You're right.
I thank you.
🙏🏽