{"id":22327,"date":"2020-03-20T07:16:25","date_gmt":"2020-03-20T11:16:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=22327"},"modified":"2020-03-20T07:27:55","modified_gmt":"2020-03-20T11:27:55","slug":"the-reassessment","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2020\/03\/the-reassessment\/","title":{"rendered":"The Reassessment"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

[Image: “Do I Know You?,” by Tom Waterhouse (an old favorite, whose work I last featured just about exactly a year ago<\/a>). As with his other photos, I found this one on Flickr<\/a> (and use it here under a Creative Commons license; thank you!). This is not a posed photo, Waterhouse says: “I’ve not really come across the concept of ‘testing’ a mirror before — you know, presumably in case it doesn’t reflect what you want to see — but this man went through a whole range of exercises, even going so far at one point as to wave at himself.”]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

From whiskey river<\/a><\/em>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Debtors<\/strong><\/p>

They used to say we’re living on borrowed
time but even when young I wondered
who loaned it to us? In 1948 one grandpa
died stretched tight in a misty oxygen tent,
his four sons gathered, his papery hand
grasping mine. Only a week before, we were fishing.
Now the four sons have all run out of borrowed time
while I’m alive wondering whom I owe
for this indisputable gift of existence.
Of course time is running out. It always
has been a creek heading east, the freight
of water with its surprising heaviness
following the slant of the land, its destiny.
What is lovelier than a creek or riverine thicket?
Say it is an unknown benefactor who gave us
birds and Mozart, the mystery of trees and water
and all living things borrowing time.
Would I still love the creek if I lasted forever?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Jim Harrison [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Guidelines for The Honorable Harvest<\/strong><\/p>

Know the ways of the ones who take care of you, so that you may take care of them.
Introduce yourself. Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life. Ask permission before taking. Abide by the answer.
Never take the first. Never take the last. Take only what you need.
Take only that which is given.
Never take more than half. Leave some for others. Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.
Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken. Share.
Give thanks for what you have been given.
Give a gift, in reciprocity for what you have taken.
Sustain the ones who sustain you and the earth will last forever.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Robin Wall Kimmerer [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…Disease empties a sector, a billion sectors.<\/p>

People look at the sky and at the other animals. They make beautiful objects, beautiful sounds, beautiful motions of their bodies beating drums in lines. They pray; they toss people in peat bogs; they help the sick and injured; they pierce their lips, their noses, ears; they make the same mistakes despite religion, written language, philosophy, and science; they build, they kill, they preserve, they count and figure, they boil the pot, they keep the embers alive; they tell their stories and gird themselves.<\/p>

Will knowledge you experience directly make you a Buddhist? Must you forfeit excitement per se? To what end?<\/p>

Say you have seen something. You have seen an ordinary bit of what is real, the infinite fabric of time that eternity shoots through, and time’s soft-skinned people working and dying under slowly shifting stars. Then what?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Annie Dillard [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Listening for Your Name<\/strong><\/p>

As a father steals into his child’s half-lit bedroom
slowly, quietly, standing long and long
counting the breaths before finally slipping
back out, taking care not to wake her,<\/p>

and as that night-lit child is fully awake the whole
time, with closed eyes, measured breathing,
savoring a delicious blessing she couldn’t
name but will remember her whole life,<\/p>

how often we feel we’re being watched over,
or that we’re secretly looking in on the ones
we love, even when they are far away,
or even as they are lost in the sleep<\/p>

no one wakes from—what we know
and what we feel can fully coincide, like love
and worry, like taking care in full silence
and secrecy, like darkness and light together.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(David Graham [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Taking Turns<\/strong><\/p>

I pass a woman on the beach.
We both wear graying hair,
feel sand between our toes,
hear surf, and see blue sky.
I came with a smile.
She came to get one.<\/p>

No. I’m wrong.<\/p>

She sits on a boulder
by a cairn of stacked rocks.
Hands over her heart,
she stares out to sea.
Today’s my turn to hold the joy,
hers the sorrow.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Jeanie Greensfelder [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We live on mined land. Nature itself is a laid trap. No one makes it through; no one gets out. You and I will likely die of heart disease. In most other times, hunger or bacteria would have killed us before our hearts quit. More people have died at fishing, I read once, than at any other human activity including war\u2026<\/p>

We are civilized generation number 500 or so, counting down from 10,000 years ago when we settled down. We are Homo sapiens<\/em> generation number 7,500, counting from 150,000 years ago when our species presumably arose. And we are human generation number 25,000, counting from the earliest Homo<\/em> species. Yet how can we see ourselves as only a short-term replacement cast for a long-running show, when a new batch of birds flies around singing, and new clouds move? Living things from hyenas to bacteria whisk the dead away like stagehands hustling props between scenes.<\/p>

To help a living space last while we live on it, we brush or haul away the blown sand and hack or burn the greenery. We are mowing the grass at the cutting edge.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Annie Dillard [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image: “Do I Know You?,” by Tom Waterhouse (an old favorite, whose work I last featured just about exactly a year ago). As with his other photos, I found this one on Flickr (and use it here under a Creative Commons license; thank you!). This is not a posed photo, Waterhouse says: “I’ve not really […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22338,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Jim Harrison, Annie Dillard, et al.: 'The Reassessment'","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[183,247,1393,250,5,251,4159],"tags":[295,4306,4861,5088,5089,5090,5091,5092],"class_list":{"0":"post-22327","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-everyday-life","8":"category-ruminations","9":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","10":"category-art","11":"category-06_writing","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"category-essays","14":"tag-annie-dillard","15":"tag-jim-harrison","16":"tag-tom-waterhouse","17":"tag-jeanie-greensfelder","18":"tag-david-graham","19":"tag-robin-wall-kimmerer","20":"tag-complicated-times","21":"tag-the-search-for-simple-answers","22":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/doiknowyou_tomwaterhouse_thumb.jpg?fit=400%2C300&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-5O7","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22327","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22327"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22327\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22350,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22327\/revisions\/22350"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22338"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22327"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22327"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22327"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}