a lesser radius

 

the vicarious, the nearby, still there

I look at pictures of a hike,

of a waterfall, of a mountain top,

and each place looks like a friend,

at their best, all hale and hearty

and perfect for the world,

and I should be with them,

now I'm having to deal with a slowly-dawning realization

that my body can't hike as it once did,

that where I can ambulate myself

has a lesser and lesser radius from where I am,

family members casually walked 4+ miles 

up to a wonderful waterfall, Ramsey Cascades,

and easily walk it back, two hours up, two hours down,

my granddaughter hikes to the top of my favorite mountain

and back down a well-loved trail,

all in one full day

something I used to do and just can't any more,

I pushed it two months ago,

and I handled well the aerobics of a steep 2+ miles,

but I didn't quite have it in me

to make it to the A.T. and back again,

many incredible spots are still within my power,

I want to appreciate what is still available,

to look up and joy that the nearby and the vicarious are still open to me,

the sun is setting, yet the light can still be there for me for awhile.

by Henry H. Walker

December 29, ‘24

Walisiyi calls!

 

power in the naming

though we name our children before we even know them,

should we name a tree, a waterfall, a stream, a mountain the same way?

shouldn't their names come out of knowing them?

my favorite mountain was capriciously named for a man

who probably never even saw it,

let alone walked it,

let alone saw sunset and sunrise from its top,

a man who didn't know it,

I argue we should bring back the name

the Indigenous Cherokee called it,

for their naming was part and parcel of the gestalt

of their intimate relationship with the world,

a mountain not just lifeless rock draped with a green forest,

but rather a place with spirit,

a living power that is of a whole

with how they felt the world,

naming should be powerful, like with God in Genesis,

too often our culture seems to feel as a collector:

kill the insect, the bird, mount it in a collection,

record its name, for then we feel we know it,

and it is ours,

a mountain is not ours,

and its name should honor it,

a mountain belongs to itself, 

and we should relate to it as to a friend.

by Henry H. Walker

January  1, ‘25

attending to the flame

 a keeper of the flame

who is the "keeper of the flame" at CFS these days?

John Baird, longtime head of the school at CFS,

wrote me years ago and addressed the physical letter to me,

Henry Walker, "The Keeper of the Flame,"

what I heard in that is that Friends School

has a sacred charge to not just be a regular school but more,

not restricting ourselves to making sure students 

are given the right support for "reading, writing, arithmetic,"

but also following a charge to support

the "finer qualities of our nature" in the students, and in the staff,

Thoreau's term for the potential part of us

that notices and resists such as the government willy-nilly

taking over another country, as the US did to Mexico during Thoreau's time,

that notices, appreciates, and preserves the natural world,

like Thoreau did at Walden Pond,

that sees, that knows, that loves, the piercing truth of art, of nature,

of ancestors', and of our own insights, 

revelations of the profundity available to us,

if we can stay open to such revelation,

the softer sides of ourselves, the vulnerable, the unsure,

the part of us that can risk

becoming larger, that can put one block on top of another

until a new thing is created,

a soft mirror of the Creator in the Beginning,

as a teacher, I focused on the glory of each individual student,

as a colleague, I focused on what charges we should heed

as to what structures and callings could lead us to the heights and the depths

a good school needs if we are to support and implement

how to become a great school,

a school needs to both concentrate its efforts

on the individual light of each student,

and also on the collective light that should call us to blaze bright,

on the subtle but vital "finer qualities of our nature,"

it is wondrous when a teacher is there for a student, for a class,

it is important also, when a school finds as many as it can find

to be there for the wholeness of a school's vision,

and works to make it so,

the flame needs attention.

by Henry H. Walker

November 29, ‘24

acting upon the world

 how to understand reality, and to act

I understand hunger and the foods available to me,

I understand people and how to build connection and community

with the savory and the sweet,

speaking to tongue and stomach,

and thus to the heart,

part of these actions is following recipe,

the physics and chemistry of it all,

I remember well my mother revealing how to make a white sauce,

the secret to combining fat, flour, and liquid,

and telling me exactly why not to use too much baking soda,

and what were the secrets of summer transparency apples,

more importantly, though, I remember the goal of the cooking:

to meet people where they were and to help them get further,

Jean used cake and coffee to draw people to the cabin

after Gatlinburg City Council meetings

so that sharing food might lead to sharing goals and actions,

I bake cinnamon rolls as a way to thank another

for who they are or for what they've done,

the shared food connects us and builds a larger whole,

I came to this musing as I consider intelligence

not just the quantity and quality of neurons firing,

but how to use all that firing to act upon the world,

patterns can speak to the deepest of what is true

and allow the possibility of tweaking then,

Howard Gardiner opened this door

when he expanded the concept of intelligence

beyond the verbal and the mathematical,

so that more of the brain, and of the heart,

gets involved in the discussion,

I just had a powerful visit with two friends

for whom music is how the universe best shows itself to them,

and works with them to create order above elemental chaos,

an instrument will sing a story,

and they will sing with it, with them,

a composer creates a wholeness

that lives anew in each retelling,

and touches us deeper than we often live,

down where we are closer to the most primaL,

I see the world most clearly in words and in pictures,

so poetry and photography are how I often speak my truth,

though deeper than those are the worlds where music operates,

consciousness is an awakening

within which the mechanisms of geology, physics, chemistry, and all,

are not just masters but tools, also,

we rise to work with the rest of existence

to choose and follow a path unique to the awake spirit,

intelligence involves finding pattern

and using that which is revealed

as a key to unlock the rules of the game

and then to play it well.

by Henry H. Walker

December 25, ‘24

absence vs presence

 

Winter Solstice '24

absence speaks to me this morning:

six weeks ago black bears were common on the land here,

gorging on acorns and walnuts,

and popping open any car door not prudently locked,

this morning slowly dawns in a dullness of light 

without my expectation of the real possibility 

of bears dropping by when I least expect it,

leaves have quit falling, the trees are bare,

gray like the leaden-heavy clouds above,

I feel absence today

as if the natural world is a frame,

empty till Spring will add back vibrant color,

rhododendron, hemlock, holly, laurel stand out

 and share a somber deepness with their green,

the moss draped over ground and rock also shares its color,

though their green has a lightness about it,

the stark gray pillars of the forest,

are more of line than fleshed-out shape,

still the frame before me softly fills with memories,

I see mama bear and two cubs a few weeks ago

walk resolutely up the bank before me 

after eating acorns in our yard,

the creek flows before me where we dipped in it, 

quickly, yesterday, and we got out fast,

I see the building of dams that hold memory better than water,

I grasp at future scenes that will play within this frame,

inside we cook a lot,

fighting withdrawal and sleep,

we celebrate with what we've saved for now,

sharing gifts and food to call up bounty,

 

the Sun pauses its retreat 

and slowly starts back toward the north,

despite long-term hope, loss shouts at me,

supported by the fact that the Sun never parts the clouds all this day,

light snow gifts the higher mountains nearby,

where the clouds rest on the higher slopes,

as if curtains behind which magic is being wrought,

or maybe just reality hidden,

the Winter Solstice preaches the power of absence,

so we both feel that loss

and celebrate the presence of family and friends,

good food to hold us all in its gifts,

the positive made more acute by what isn't here,

but anti-entropic, we get a call and the way opens

for family to join us here tomorrow,

even though this is a time of absence,

we appreciate the presence still possible.

by Henry H. Walker

December 21, ‘24