Collaborative survival
The water’s edge is patchy, ragged, ever-shifting, full of temporalities. I walk along Australia’s Bondi Beach navigating this unruly line between ocean and land: a boundary full of entanglements, fabulist in its intermingling of ephemerality and immutability. Other humans and non-humans gather at this periphery between two worlds, each of them managing the space in their own way: fearfully, delightedly, or purposefully. Those who delve deeper into the waves give themselves over to a position of precariousness, where the ocean dictates their movements, their safety, their provisional stability.
I admire them as I tiptoe cautiously towards the horizon, sinking deeper into the water until my feet no longer touch bottom. I tell my mind, “let go,” put faith in my ability to float and a strange new domain. I look around, trying to grasp the contours of this environment. I marvel: from where I have been gently swayed by the current I can see neither shore nor nearby swimmers. There are no trails to guide me anywhere, no buoys to plot a course. It’s just me levitating in endless liquid. No progress. No linearity. No future. I quell the momentary panic, sigh, and gaze up. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to being in the moment, lately.
What if I could center this way of thinking? In trying to figure out a life amid economic and environmental ruin, how do I allow vulnerability instead of fear to transform how I behave in this unreliable system?
The beach is a constant state of flux, a give and take between two modes of matter. Landscape is remade through seasonal and epochal cycles, not a singular march forward. Time — for the grains of sand, for the flowing tide — is not measured one-dimensionally, but in slow incalculable motion. There’s no happy ending for a liminality. Within this continuous changeability, nonhumans alter air, water, and earth, creating co-habitats for one another — burrowing homes in the dunes, foraging food using thermal streams, digesting plankton on the ocean floor — without fixed assumptions or destined plans. How can I assemble my existence in such multidirectional patterns?
Back on shore, I listen to the polyphonic symphony of gulls, dogs, humans, and surf. Some would call it a cacophony of cawing, baying, cackling, and pounding. However, though the sounds may be in dissonance, their gathering rhythms remind me of our shared planet, our shared attempts at life-building. Bird, dog, ground, human, water — we are all in perpetual encounters with one another, giving and receiving in numerous ways intentionally and accidentally. There is no self-sufficiency. There is no clear-cut analysis of who is winning or losing.
If I persist in the fantasy of autonomous survival and decision-making, then I will perpetuate the harm caused by systems of extraction and acquisition. The happenings at Bondi beach, the way compositions coalesce and disassemble, teaches me there is no grand equation to flourishing. Rather, it’s about paying attention to the big and small, the center and peripheral, the order as well as the chaos. And then, like the terns maneuvering between land and water using drafts or the shore itself slipping positions, I can respond to chance, interaction, collaboration, and indeterminacy with coordination and open imagination.
TRAVEL NOTE:
“Blakwork,” by Gomeroi poet Alison Whittaker is an autobiography of a different nature. Blending prose and poetry with satire and reportage, this book examines our relationship to ourselves and the land we come from.
As the world continues to burn and life for all beings becomes more precarious, how can we create and maintain collaborative connections?
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You describe this wonderful feeling and experience eloquently. Wonderful post and photos!
Thank you for your kind words. Very happy to hear you enjoyed the post!
“There is no clear-cut analysis of who is winning or losing.” I’m sure there are many who would contest that statement. After all, mankind has become the dominant species, remaking much of the planet in his own image. But yet, by doing so, he’s sowed the seeds of his own downfall by taking that domination to excess rather than considering the interactive balance you allude to here.
Absolutely, although in certain given instances there is interplay, in the overall historical context we are all losing because of human greed.
Hello Atreyee,
What a stunning post on all levels, thanks so much for reminding us to pay attention to our surroundings whilst being in the moment – and remembering to “let go” every now and then. Reading your latest article is truly like a breath of fresh air. Thank you.
Thank you Takami for such lovely words, they truly encourage me! Wishing you a wonderful autumn season in your corner of the world.
Beautiful. My current mission is about being in the moment and cherishing all those (people, nature, events, sounds, aromas) that help make us who we are and this world the precious gift it is/can be. It’s not always easy. Water definitely helps. xo
A lovely mission to have! Wishing you all the best as you live in each moment. XO
Paying attention to what is in and around us can be a powerful teacher and compass as we try to negotiate the intricacies of life. Your words and thoughts are beautifully expressed in this piece, Atreyee.
Thank you Jolandi. I am always trying to see what my life is trying to teach me, though I admit following some of the lessons and changing habits is one of the hardest things to do.
Thank you for sharing your profound insights and suggestions to make this a better world for humans and non-humans alike. Many North American Indigenous tribes think of that latter group of beings as more-than-human and I tend to agree. I fear that humans, on the other hand, act more often in a less-than-human way, which accounts for all our troubles.
I agree. It’s difficult to change from the mindset of a society that’s taught us to value the world only as it pertains to our needs and wants. Reconnecting with the broken ties to our more-than-human cohabitants will require a tremendous shift. Thanks, as always, for your wonderful insights.
Thank you. 🙏
I must say I don’t think I’d be able to do what you did: floating on the ocean without much else in the vicinity. I’d be thinking of the sharks, or the whales, or whatever creatures out there. Maybe I watched too many movies! I really like your contemplative last paragraph as I often ask myself similar questions. So far, I haven’t found a conclusive answer. But maybe there is no answer to that, just clues to teach us how we, in your words, can respond to chance, interaction, collaboration, and indeterminacy with coordination and open imagination.
I too often wish life would provide a singular answer, but then we wouldn’t have the wondrously diverse universe we do if that were true! I think part of the beauty of each of our little journeys, whatever species we are, is that there are no definitive trails. I reflect on your “Second Rendezvous with Taiwan” post in which, despite the political tension, the island is finding ways to provide spaces for bringing people together in all sorts of capacities. Finding multiple ways to do this both on the individual and the societal levels will be how we all flourish.
As always, so beautifully written. I could hear the beautiful cacophony.
Oh thank you! Hoping this finds you well.
You had me at Bondi beach. It’s so long since I’ve been there, but I swam with you just the same.
I agree there’s no grand equation to flourishing, except for me just one. I love the serendipity of the universe; I was talking about this with friends last night, how we can be overwhelmed with bad news, how that’s the only thing considered worthy of being reported, when there’s good going on every day everywhere, people quietly living their lives. So for me the only answer is to focus on what’s good, and to put that energy out into the cosmos; to write my own headlines. Woman reads thoughtful article by Atryee tonight. Golden autumn leaves shout with glee. Alison has a happy time in the forest today.
On a completely different note – do you check your spam folder? Are you getting regular spam as usual? I’ve had my blog with WP for 11 years and have gotten spam comments every day. I always skim through them because occasionally I find a legit comment there. Now suddenly for about 3 weeks I’ve had NO spam comments. I’m checking with you (and a few others) to see if it’s the same for everyone. The Akismet people have not so far been able to help. Thanks so much.
Alison
Thank you Alison for such wondrous comforting words. We are lost, not because there is harm in the world, but when we come to believe that nothing can be done about the harm that occurs in the world. Every little light makes an impact.
As for the spam…no I’ve not seen spam comments either in my queue for some time.
I like the line about there being no clear winner or loser, although in the greater sense it would seem that evil is amassing and swallowing the whole.
That being said, I’ve been wanting to write about what one can do during these times, and the best answer I can give is to be a good person. Can you imagine if everyone did that? Now, that’s a world worth building.
Beautifully written as always, xo
Ah, thank you Lani! It’s a constant daily struggle and quest, the choice to show up for each other with kindness and do battle with our inner fears, and not be swayed by the oversimplified answers offered to us. And when it feels like everything is being swallowed up, I remind myself that we are a part of a community that continues to choose to love. All you need is a little light to show up the dark! Sending you lots of 💗. 🤗
❤
Great food for thought. Buddhism tells you to go with the flow. Not to swim against the current. It can work for some, not too much for me, though I am trying. If you’re floating, think of a swimming pool. There’s always a bottom. When you’re at a loss, let yourself sink, you’ll go back up. If there is a current pulling you to the sea, don’t swim against the current, swim parallel to the shore in a diagonal. It may take a while, but you will reach the shore… (I had a big scare once in Acapulco… but I did exactly that).
Now perspective. Think about the Linear and circular Time. It’s just a matter of changing perspective. Centre. Periphery. Inside outside. And if the solution doesn’t come immediately, just float. Let it go. Your mind will find a way. On its own… 😉
🤗 Thank you. It IS all a matter of perspective. I’m still trying to change how I view time…from chronos to kairos…the shifting of habit and viewpoint is probably going to be a lifelong struggle for me, but I’m doing it one stroke at a time.
One stroke at a time is going. Changes don’t have to be radical. They need to be..,. absorbed/implemented slowly. Except in emergencies… haha!
Thank you for the introduction to Gomeroi poet Alison Whitaker. I enjoy following you on Substack and have wanted to comment and restack your excellent articles. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate your posts.
Thank you so much for stopping by here as well to chat! I so very much appreciate your support over on Substack and very much enjoy your podcast episodes!
Love the fresh new way of looking at all of this.
Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Profound and lovely reflections, Atreyee. 💜
Thank you Carol! I so appreciate you stopping by to read.
It’s strange. I was at the water’s edge this morning, with no thoughts other than how beautiful and unpredictable the rise and fall. Charting a course is never easy, Atreyee. Didn’t somebody say ‘go with the flow’? 🤗🩵
Indeed Jo! “Go with the flow,” when it comes to the universe is so much harder for me when the noise of society intervenes! I’m still learning how to embrace that beautiful unpredictability. 💙
🤗🩵