What is my soul's purpose?
I still don't know. But I aspire to share a sense of the thrill and companionship of being in conversation with (remember: turning with) the more-than-human. I think that's really what I aspire to.
It's about asserting and valuing the subjectivity of the other; seeing the other as response-able while being, oneself, responsible for one's interactions. It's about experiencing the world as wakeful. It's about acknowledging the past, present and future within every individual. It's about seeing and hearing rather than counting and judging, grasping and labeling, ignoring and disregarding.
It's about being enlivened by the enlivenment all around.
It's about telling stories that encourage connections and reciprocity. Stories that accept human vulnerability and dependency - we share that with all else that is. Stories that are appropriately humble and appropriately reverent. Stories that do not dismiss the idea of the sacred.
I watch the dunnock. The dunnock watches me.
The crow watches.
Mrs B. watches.
I walk a path from the concrete to the green box and the plants are squashed and the soil is compressed. The birds perch in places and below is spattered with white. The hedgehog moves the feeding plates around. The pigeons, starlings and squirrel tip the bird food from the hanging feeders. The man next door scares the birds. The fox eats the corpse of the dunnock. The worms break up the garden waste. The bees pollinate. The spiders entangle.
All is entangled.
Lovely x