Let me express myself! I yearn to write!

Please note that this manuscript is still being developed. The working title is "Finding Satori Within Nature," and I am currently revising 14 chapters. I aim to share the next chapter within two weeks.

Thank you for your continued interest.

The Water Journal: Part One

Stickney Pool, along with the wetlands of my hometown, is home to Trumpeter Swans during Spring. This setting marks the beginning of my story, dear friends. Numerous hidden writing spots lie waiting to be uncovered within the expansive 30,600-acre Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge in Zimmerman, Minnesota. This area takes us back to the Wisconsin Glacial Age, 14,000 years ago, where mammoths once rested beyond the marsh in the grasslands. The early Spring dew in this ecosystem allows stress to dissipate.

A vibrant wetland community thrives just before me as I compose this entry. Countless hours have been dedicated to writing and revising here. The occasional rustling of leaves from passing animals is my only distraction. Nocturnal beavers return home after their evening foraging, while Red-winged Blackbirds warn me when I come too close. We humans must tread lightly around such delicate ecosystems, as Life exists in places untouched by people. The sounds of crunching leaves signal the precarious dance between survival and predation for the smaller fauna in the presence of owls, hawks, and foxes. Being in this space calls for us to be silent and respectful, as we are indeed their guests.

Many observations and thoughts from these idyllic writing spots are often kept private. The unintentional presence of humans can disrupt and damage habitats. Rare, delicate white forest flowers may perish underfoot, and certain nesting birds refrain from mating in our sight. Even distant voices can instill fear in local wildlife. We are large, branch-snapping beings, with limbs thicker than the logs that form a muskrat’s home. However, spending a day in a hammock, quietly writing while observing wildlife? That sounds like a productive and safe adventure. It's a reminder of how much younger we are as a species compared to the ancient beings that surround us.

A fulfilling day spent observing and dissecting various narratives into cohesive entries feels like a wonderful way to spend a free weekend. This vignette may serve as an editing session fueled by pure enjoyment of the craft. I will check in intermittently between edited entries to maintain a sense of place. If an animal appears or if I finish an entry, I will strive to refocus on writing here in this park.

Moral reflections may weave their way through my stream of consciousness. The essence of my presence here is to slow down and recharge through these pages. There is no rush, dear reader. Join me in this outdoor perspective, free from any requirements. To be candid and vulnerable, I am indeed editing these journals outdoors. This has evolved into a true passion for me—a practice of patience and resilience. Before we embark on this journey, let me ask: when was the last time you turned off your phone?

I feel the internet eroding our attention spans and pulling us away from a holistic existence. Our social duty here in the marsh is to pay tribute to our local sovereign, the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias). An elder is nearby, proudly digesting a freshly caught fish, likely a perch. They are masters of these wetlands and are fully aware of my presence. As I sit at a distance, I can write freely while they hunt for frogs without concern.

The hidden marshes and vibrant prairies urgently need protection and, more importantly, respect. Today’s task is simply to appreciate the refreshing breezes through the trees, much like the birds do when they lift their heads. The splendid atmosphere offers a peaceful backdrop that stretches impossibly high in the sky. It’s time to exist; time to reflect on what once was.

MSP Airport, Bloomington, Minnesota, United States of America 7:22 AM

Let me express myself! Allow me to write! Let me board this incoming flight. People are hoarding bags and clutching their tickets. Feet tap in anticipation of a sudden rush. A Delta flight attendant nervously reads COVID-19 protocols. I pull a leather-bound journal from my bag, my reading material for the flight. Revisiting a completed journal can help stabilize jumbled thoughts during this enforced downtime. Editing these journals into a narrative of my own experiences aids in contextualizing the complexities of life’s seemingly simple moments. While I could easily frame life as all sunshine and rainbows, we both know that’s not the full picture. Nevertheless, I enjoy shifting between perspectives and focusing on the positive aspects of existence. I hope to convey this understanding clearly. It’s time to board.

...

‘La température extérieure est -56 degrés Fahrenheit.’ My seat screen lights up for the first time since takeoff as I explore the settings. The plane is cruising at 532 MPH towards New York, passing over Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania before reaching New Jersey. There are only thirty minutes left until the tiny trains and buildings of Manhattan, along with LaGuardia airport, come into sight. Currently, the sky is filled with fluffy clouds, and below, a quilt of Roanoke farmland stretches out, with their shadows casting long ovals across the fields. I write and revise this last sentence while thanking the steward for some pretzels, lost in my thoughts.

You know, I hope that discussing these ideas during this new business trip will ease the potential awkwardness of subsequent icebreakers. I plan to condense who I am into a captivating narrative when introducing myself, aiming to create a foundation of interest. I tend to avoid eye contact and steer conversations off course if I haven't prepared beforehand. It’s astounding to consider how many pages I’ve filled with premeditated dialogues. I admit that this might not be entirely healthy. Yet, my thoughts flow freely across the pages, and this new role has turned out to be an unexpected gift. Literary freedom is genuine. I could be anyone to these new colleagues, so I may as well present my authentic self and strive to be a good person.

Time for a quick connecting flight from New York to Richmond, Virginia.

...

We’ve landed! I spot a classic brick train station as my new coworker J______ and I drive our rental car past iron sculptures and white stone towers welcoming us to downtown Richmond. Our conversation is proving fruitful; we regard each other as formidable individuals. As an immigrant, he finds intrigue in American recycling, farming aesthetics, and our constitutional freedoms.

In a quiet moment, we notice a piece of graffiti: purple and blue mushrooms enveloping a naked figure on a boarded-up sandwich shop. We agree that financial stability is a worthy goal, devoid of greed and vices. For his privacy, I will refrain from sharing the traumas he’s escaped from as a child. It’s reassuring to know we’ve forged a friendship right from the start.

If you ever find yourself in Richmond, I recommend strolling along the cobblestone sidewalks past the knick-knack shops and antique boutiques to a cozy Thai and Japanese fusion café called Mom’s Siam. Our crew is fully assembled for the first time, surrounded by enticing aromas I struggle to describe. I suspect the young waitress is a vegetarian too, given her smile and nod of approval as I order avocado/asparagus maki and vegetable red curry. I glance out the window at an independent bookstore across the street, keeping this thought to myself. Vase-like trees climb the slope, and the building’s walls showcase a palette of natural greens, grays, light blues, and white brick. They’ve been repainted so many times over the past century that they’ve developed a multicolored appearance.

Mmmhmm! I’m grateful to those who have mastered maki and curry! As I look to see what the guys think of their meals, J______ laughs, noticing my unusual dining style—chopsticks in my left hand and writing with my right. The others smile but return to their discussion about electrical codes, recommending an app to help us prepare for a journeyman’s exam. I mention that I ditched my smartphone years ago. J______ and I are the inexperienced ones in the group, and the veterans have quickly noticed my lack of interest in pursuing a career in electrical work.

I glance outside at a line of Segways passing a Porsche. The privileged driver is visibly frustrated as she bumps along the 15 mph cobbled road, while an electric bicycle glides effortlessly by.

The meal was delightful, and we expressed our gratitude to the restaurant owner before departing. As we leave downtown and the city behind, the intricate Richmond highway system brings us past a billboard with a simple message: Be Ubiquitous.

I concur.

It feels good to be here.

Countless distractions await at the Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge as I reminisce about my trip to Virginia. The Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis) and the leaves of White Swamp Oaks (Quercus bicolor) coexist, while my thoughts drift back to Richmond. The call of four soaring cranes above transports me to a time long past. I must say, spending extended time outdoors, free from the endless scroll of a screen, brings about genuine relaxation. Moments spent among the cattails in Mn’sota provide a more authentic understanding of the passage of evolution and time.

A warm, comfortable quiet surrounds me, only to be interrupted by a pesky tick. MEH! Get off me!

Despite the minor nuisance, I am here, editing the initial passages of a 162-page (and counting) notebook filled with my journals resting beside me. Certain truths are becoming clear:

1. Naps in a hammock between two pines can be deeper than on a couch, especially with a gentle breeze.
2. People, myself included, often forget how much time we waste wilting before a screen for hours. We overlook the peace that exists among the trees.
3. Friends I’ve brought to this park visibly remember the depth and warmth of nature; the color returns to their eyes as we hike.

Humans come here to stretch our minds in harmony with wildlife. A simple day’s adventure need not be distant or touristy. Local sanctuaries can be far enough to require a car, yet close enough to return from without haste. No need for white-knuckle driving; we can reflect leisurely on how the day unfolds.

The natural flow of time reveals the Life force surrounding us. Countless quadrillions of organisms inhabit this planet. The harmless small creatures we encounter on hikes, like red squirrels and nuthatches, watch us cautiously, mistaking our size for that of a predator. If we spend enough time in a location to show the nearby birds, rodents, and fellow forest dwellers that we mean no harm, they gradually relax and continue their day.

The ambiance is far more genuine and intrinsic when writing about these beings. They deserve a voice. It would be ironic if I were writing this at a desk or through an AI program. I am truly here, out in the wilderness, crafting this entry. Choosing to disconnect from the internet has proven to be a wonderful decision—this is true refreshment.

Society tends to stigmatize being offline, but I say, whatever! I feel more complete now. I observe those who don’t venture outside and those who can’t break free from their screen dependency. Life appears so dull without our black mirrors. Don’t misunderstand me; I do use the internet as a tool, as it was intended. Ignoring the total integration of the web into our lives would be foolish. Yet, it remains just a tool. Complete internet sobriety is soul-crushing—believe me, I’ve experienced it. You’re reading this because I’ve chosen to turn off my phone. Otherwise, I would be consumed by it, wasting away my youth. Instead, I’m channeling my energy into writing this for you. Thank you for engaging with this, as there’s no need for internet addiction.

Sometimes we may feel we can’t live without our phones, and that’s perfectly fine. However, it’s crucial to remember what human existence was like before this system. Systems exist to assist us in meeting our basic needs, following procedures, and handling emergencies. This is evident. What I aim to convey is that people often overlook our ability to exist without the internet for as long as we have been here.

I too owned an iPhone for a brief time. After switching to a basic phone, I started making more intentional choices for myself. I found myself in hammocks more often. I became the only person in my friend group who could navigate without GPS. I began to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and engage in conversations. Most importantly, I discovered that I could write THOUSANDS OF JOURNAL PAGES—thousands! I had no idea I possessed that capability. I turned off my phone. I encourage everyone, whenever you read this—whether I’m still young or have passed fifty years from now—to read this outside in a safe local setting, if the weather permits.

Our distractible minds are expected to remain engaged, intellectually sharp, and always performing. This is so exhausting! Meanwhile, you’ve been privy to my internal musings for over a thousand words now. I, on the other hand, get to write in the company of a massive, silent Burr Oak elder, standing tall at its own leisurely pace. Just look at that bark! Isn’t it intricate? This transpiratory creature towers above me, scattering seeds. The squirrels have been attempting to approach me this morning for an acorn, treating me as if I were a dragon guarding a mountain of treasures.

There are countless elders to coexist with out here. Some giants, like the Ash tree, bear propeller seeds. Maples do too, although theirs are shaped more like commas. As children, we called them helicopters. In college, I learned they are called samaras, but honestly, we can name them whatever we wish. Green Ashes (Fraxinus pennsylvanica) have straight samaras resembling miniature canoe paddles, as if dragonflies use them behind our backs. Their branching is opposite, creating a trident-like appearance at their tips. From a distance, Fraxinus pennsylvanica seems to swoop down, forming a spade shape akin to the one I’m contemplating for my next writing spot.

See? You continue to read my thoughts. I suppose you are a mind reader. I will say that a lack of eye contact or social media presence does not dictate how much respect or attention we can focus on one another. Out here, we can exist as swiftly as the Elm trees sway.

Before I delve into editing the next segment of this business trip and continue refining my past journals, I want to share that I am happier now. I smile now. How about that? I smile now. This body of work has truly become a journey of self-discovery. Life can be gut-wrenching when we are unaware of our obstacles. Allow me to show you how I became a better person through this process.

So let’s take a moment to pause and inhale deeply. Inhale and hold the air. Feel your lungs expand. Feel your heartbeat. I invite you… to turn off your phone.

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Next chapter:

Listening To His Sonar-like Quack

A mating pair of ducks is dipping into the water from the Southwest corner. A male…

Copyright 2023 Casimir Curney. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.