I have not read this book. However, I hope you are able to settle into a home that feels right for you soon.
It's not fun to have your belongings in storage and to stay in temporary rentals. That's how I lived when I was in the Northeast when I tried to relocate from Washington to Vermont. However, in your case, I think your home is just around the corner.
Hi, Patricia, Thanks for the comment. I have a rental house starting in (gulp!) three weeks, when the sale of this house closes. I have moved ten times in the past dozen years as I've "re-storyied" unloved houses, preparing them for new owners, so I have lot of practice with moving and with having to store some of my stuff as I jacked up a house and put a new foundation under it or did other serious renovations. I agree: it isn't fun. But in this case, that's what's necessary. And I'm moving to a place only about an hour and a quarter away from where I am now, so it's not anywhere near the drive that some of my moves have been (like from Wyoming to New Mexico in a winter blizzard!). I hope that where you are now is a good place for you!
Moving in a blizzard must have been tremendously challenging. I'm glad you arrived safely in your next location. You have gained all those renovation skills along the way.
Finding the right home has been a theme during my adult life. I've moved cities and states. I would like to live in a small geodome type structure. Those are only beginning to trend now. I don't know how many times I've moved. It must be around 20 times with the smaller and bigger moves included. I grew up in a military family so the gypsy personality began in childhood. The family moved 5 times before I turned 5.
This is exciting news! Your new home sounds wonderful -and what a gorgeous looking town. Renting let's you find a permanent home with the luxury of time not rushing into a home that may not be right. Renting is also an alternative and can be economical -I rented for years in New York City and miss the tiny one-bedroom with a view of the Hudson River from my perch in Inwood, Manhattan. Deep breaths and pack each day which gives you another chance to eliminate and donate what you don't need or use. Make sure to enjoy each evening with a delicious meal or favorite drink to celebrate the days work. Cynthia- A Fan
Cynthia, My rental is funky and reminds me of being back in grad school, living in places that are convenient, rather than necessarily well-designed. But it has a lovely view of nearby peaks (I'm above town on a mesa in the juniper forest, not down in the green and irrigated valley). Your tiny one-bedroom with a view of the Hudson River sounds charming! Renting here isn't particularly economical--real estate in Colorado's mountain towns is at a premium--but it's necessary in this case. As for the move, I have way too much practice after ten moves in the past dozen years! :) Blessings to you.
Paonia looks beautiful online. Makes sense to get a rental at this point. Sending light and positive energy your way. This book looks really good, but I have no time at the moment . I'm going to put it on my 'to be read' list.
Phyllis, Thanks for the light and positive energy! And yes, do put Finding Beauty in a Broken World on your to-read list. It will give you a whole new perspective on these times and humanity and our relationship to each other and this earth. Blessings!
I'm grateful you've found a home that puts you in the right setting for making more permanent plans!
I have read the book, but I'll make a comment about the beginning. I think using T.S. Eliot's words--and on multiple pages--prepares readers. I've heard Christina Baldwin talk about a "contract with the reader." The idea behind that is that the beginning of a book lets people know what to expect. Here, they should get that the author won't use a very traditional way to tell a story. Also, that line, "Once upon a time, we knew the world from birth" is what Tempest Williams believes, I think, even though it's Eliot's line. Even the use of "we" in Eliot's stanza helps her, I think. I believe she's using this to say that we all have some abandoned knowledge in common. She's not saying that the readers have a problem, which I imagine would make this kind of preachy. I think she may be using it to say that everybody, including her, has lost something in the world.
Christina, Thank you for your good thoughts and for kicking off the discussion! I like your reference to Christina Baldwin's idea of a "contract with the reader," that is, giving readers an idea of what to expect as the narrative unfurls. And I agree that is certainly part of what Tempest Williams is doing. I think she is also "mapping" brokenness on the page by beginning the book in a deliberately fragmented way. Whether or not she was conscious of that while writing, that is certainly the result of the broken lines and text fragments on the first few pages.
And your comment on the TS Eliot line is very interesting. I hadn't seen it just that way, but I think you've hit on something important. Tempest Williams is saying that we have lost something in this modern worked, something we need to know. This is reinforced when, near the end of the book, Tempest Williams quotes another writer, the memoirist Katherine Standefer (who has an amazing Substack newsletter, called The Wild and Holy Moment), who expands on that same TS Eliot line in an essay: "Once upon a time, we knew the world from birth. Now we have to learn it again, piece by piece, understanding from the name out." I think that is part of what Tempest Williams is aiming for in this book: teaching us how to find the broken pieces, the knowledge we lost, and create from that a new way to understand the world, a new relationship with this earth and each other.
Susan, thank you for bringing us together to read FBiaBW as a community. May was too busy for me to get into it; but I renewed my library copy and am jumping in now. I read it years ago and am excited to refresh my memory and glean new insights. I so appreciate sharing this experience with others and reading their comments here. Gratitude for shepherding us through this in the midst of your move!
Joni, Thanks for joining us! I am glad you have time to dive in now, and will look forward to whatever comments you choose to make. If you want to discuss any of the questions or comments on this thread, that's great. If not, I'll put up a new set of questions right after I move, in time for Summer Solstice. Blessings!
Thanks much, Jeanne! I am quite excited about this move--not about being a renter for a year, but about going to a smaller community that feels more like home to me. Blessings to you in your beautiful place in the Southern Appalachians.
I am a third of the way through and happy to be reading a TTW book again. I've read several of hers and appreciate her ability to offer reverance and ethical considerations in an intimate giving/sharing.
"Our kinship with Earth must be maintained; otherwise we will find ourselves trapped in the center of our own paved-over souls with no way out." p.75
The loss of kinship with Earth and Others is on my mind every day. My responses to harm and destruction can be highly emotional at times: I once stayed inside my house for two days, because a nearby forest of beautiful old trees was being clearcut. The mechanical buzzing of the efficent sawing and branch stripping machine, and then the thud of a massive Douglas firs falling to their death was simply too much for my nervous system. Reading the section on the murder of prairie dogs caused a similar response.
But we must witness this destruction to build our ethical and moral foundations of kinship behavior. So I read and wince. And am thankful that my reaction is so visceral.
From p. 89: "Quite simply, the story of the Utah prairie dog is the story of the range of our compassion. If we can extend our idea of community to include the lowliest of creatures...we will indeed be closer to a path of peace and tolerance. If we can accomdate the "other," the shadow we will see on our own home ground will be the forecast of our own species' extended winter of the soul."
I may have read this book before or perhaps reviews or articles. I made a note in the beginning of the prairie dog section to look up an indigenous story that I vaguely recalled about the relationship between prairie dogs and rain. And then there it was on p. 88: "If you take away all of the prairie dogs, there will be no one to cry for the rain." That simple understanding has been with me for years but I couldn't remember where I heard or read it.
My partner and I have been talking about division and othering as we are assaulted every day by such horrid examples under the current administration. He was a US peacekeeper in the 1990's Bosnian war that resulted in ethnic cleansing of and by people who were once neighbors and friends, and witnessed how inhumane humans can be. We grow concerned each day as we are bombarded with Executive Orders of hate and othering. Our country and culture has always struggled to be united but the progress we made in our short history has been a painful and remarkable journey that is both strong and fragile.
Wishing you a smooth move to your funky new abode!
Sue, Thanks for contributing to the discussion here! I think that two top things I love about Tempest Williams' writing is that she is able to be vulnerable on the page, and also that her mystical communion with the earth is part of everything she writes. It takes courage to be ourselves in our writing, and Terry doesn't lack that.
Your point that we must witness what is happening, in particular the destruction of the community of this planet, in order to grow our kinship and also our own self-care, is a really good one. Good for you for knowing yourself well enough to not flinch and also to recognize when your heart is hurting. Your comment about being thankful that your reaction is so visceral struck me as really wise--if we intellectualize what is happening, we weaken our connection and our ability to empathize and to act on behalf of the "least of us," whether they are humans in need or prairie dogs or those Douglas-firs falling with a thud in the clearcut.
I believe that the "no one to cry for rain" comes from a Paiute story that Tempest Williams has written about in other contexts. I know I've heard that about prairie dogs in other First Peoples' knowledge and in fact, I saw a Navajo rug design that the weaver explained as prairie dogs piercing the summer thunderstorm clouds to bring rain, so it may be something shared among various cultures.
Your point about division and othering is a really cogent one. One of the reasons I teach terraphilia is that spending time observing the relationships between species that weave natural communities is a wonderful lesson in the value of diversity. Monocultures like wheat fields require enormous support in terms of water, fertilizer, herbicides and fossil fuels to even survive one season of growth. While diverse communities like Palouse prairie or sagebrush shrublands are self-sustaining because they are woven by the interactions of many kinds of different beings. Diversity is how life thrives; tribalism and ethnic cleansing is the way of death for human communities both in the literal and figurative sense.
Thanks again for taking time to bring your thoughtful comments to the discussion!
I'm wishing you good luck in your new place. I'm hoping you do enjoy your time there.
I haven't read the book, but I've put it on my to-read list. It sounds fascinating. When I was a college instructor, my students and I interviewed survivors of Cambodia's Killing Fields. These survivors were gracious and honest.
Regarding 9/11, I'm originally from New York City, though I now live in the Midwest. At the time, my aunt lived in Manhattan, and my brother worked there. It was completely terrifying because I couldn't communicate with them at all and was left feeling horrified, powerless, and scared, like the rest of our nation. My brother later told me that when he was driving across a bridge from the city to the suburb where he lived, the bridge was filled with papers that had flown all the way onto the bridge. Simply horrifying.
Beth, Thanks for the good wishes. I'm moving to a rental and viewing it as a kind of sabbatical while I look for a house to buy there. (I haven't rented in about 40 years, so it's kind of like going back to grad school in a way, and the house is as funky as many of my college rentals were.)
Interviewing survivors of Cambodia's Killing Fields must have been intense, and quite a learning experience. Good for you for giving your students that kind of heart-expanding opportunity. As Sue Kusch said in her comments on the book (and I'm paraphrasing here), we have to witness the horrors of the world in order to develop our moral compass and, I would add, our compassion muscles too.
Thank you for that view of 9/11 through your brother's eyes. The image of the papers from the offices in the Twin Towers blown all the way to the bridge he was driving across from the city to his home is an eerie one. I'm glad he was okay, and I assume your aunt was too. It's an event none of us who were alive then will ever forget.
I am reading the book. As with all of TTW writing, I love it. For some reason, I've not read this book yet, so really appreciate the choice of it here so I have the opportunity. I will (hopefully) get back here to address some of your well-posed questions. Thank you for opening up a wonderful discussion!
Jenny, I am glad that the Terraphilia Book Club prompted you to read Finding Beauty in a Broken World. I think it isn't as well-known as some of her other books because it is not an easy read, and it asks the reader to engage in difficult questions about ourselves, our species, and our impact on the earth and each other. But once you make the effort, the way Terry structures the narrative and the stories she tells are profoundly meaningful. I'll look forward to any comments you have. May the book bring you insight and inspiration!
I have not read this book. However, I hope you are able to settle into a home that feels right for you soon.
It's not fun to have your belongings in storage and to stay in temporary rentals. That's how I lived when I was in the Northeast when I tried to relocate from Washington to Vermont. However, in your case, I think your home is just around the corner.
Hi, Patricia, Thanks for the comment. I have a rental house starting in (gulp!) three weeks, when the sale of this house closes. I have moved ten times in the past dozen years as I've "re-storyied" unloved houses, preparing them for new owners, so I have lot of practice with moving and with having to store some of my stuff as I jacked up a house and put a new foundation under it or did other serious renovations. I agree: it isn't fun. But in this case, that's what's necessary. And I'm moving to a place only about an hour and a quarter away from where I am now, so it's not anywhere near the drive that some of my moves have been (like from Wyoming to New Mexico in a winter blizzard!). I hope that where you are now is a good place for you!
Moving in a blizzard must have been tremendously challenging. I'm glad you arrived safely in your next location. You have gained all those renovation skills along the way.
Finding the right home has been a theme during my adult life. I've moved cities and states. I would like to live in a small geodome type structure. Those are only beginning to trend now. I don't know how many times I've moved. It must be around 20 times with the smaller and bigger moves included. I grew up in a military family so the gypsy personality began in childhood. The family moved 5 times before I turned 5.
This is exciting news! Your new home sounds wonderful -and what a gorgeous looking town. Renting let's you find a permanent home with the luxury of time not rushing into a home that may not be right. Renting is also an alternative and can be economical -I rented for years in New York City and miss the tiny one-bedroom with a view of the Hudson River from my perch in Inwood, Manhattan. Deep breaths and pack each day which gives you another chance to eliminate and donate what you don't need or use. Make sure to enjoy each evening with a delicious meal or favorite drink to celebrate the days work. Cynthia- A Fan
Cynthia, My rental is funky and reminds me of being back in grad school, living in places that are convenient, rather than necessarily well-designed. But it has a lovely view of nearby peaks (I'm above town on a mesa in the juniper forest, not down in the green and irrigated valley). Your tiny one-bedroom with a view of the Hudson River sounds charming! Renting here isn't particularly economical--real estate in Colorado's mountain towns is at a premium--but it's necessary in this case. As for the move, I have way too much practice after ten moves in the past dozen years! :) Blessings to you.
All the best to you.💛🧡 You are a pro at moving!
Looking forward to the book discussion.
Thanks! I am a pro at moving, and it's not something I ever aspired to.
As for the book discussion, pick a question and respond here in the comments. That will get us going!
Paonia looks beautiful online. Makes sense to get a rental at this point. Sending light and positive energy your way. This book looks really good, but I have no time at the moment . I'm going to put it on my 'to be read' list.
Phyllis, Thanks for the light and positive energy! And yes, do put Finding Beauty in a Broken World on your to-read list. It will give you a whole new perspective on these times and humanity and our relationship to each other and this earth. Blessings!
I'm grateful you've found a home that puts you in the right setting for making more permanent plans!
I have read the book, but I'll make a comment about the beginning. I think using T.S. Eliot's words--and on multiple pages--prepares readers. I've heard Christina Baldwin talk about a "contract with the reader." The idea behind that is that the beginning of a book lets people know what to expect. Here, they should get that the author won't use a very traditional way to tell a story. Also, that line, "Once upon a time, we knew the world from birth" is what Tempest Williams believes, I think, even though it's Eliot's line. Even the use of "we" in Eliot's stanza helps her, I think. I believe she's using this to say that we all have some abandoned knowledge in common. She's not saying that the readers have a problem, which I imagine would make this kind of preachy. I think she may be using it to say that everybody, including her, has lost something in the world.
Christina, Thank you for your good thoughts and for kicking off the discussion! I like your reference to Christina Baldwin's idea of a "contract with the reader," that is, giving readers an idea of what to expect as the narrative unfurls. And I agree that is certainly part of what Tempest Williams is doing. I think she is also "mapping" brokenness on the page by beginning the book in a deliberately fragmented way. Whether or not she was conscious of that while writing, that is certainly the result of the broken lines and text fragments on the first few pages.
And your comment on the TS Eliot line is very interesting. I hadn't seen it just that way, but I think you've hit on something important. Tempest Williams is saying that we have lost something in this modern worked, something we need to know. This is reinforced when, near the end of the book, Tempest Williams quotes another writer, the memoirist Katherine Standefer (who has an amazing Substack newsletter, called The Wild and Holy Moment), who expands on that same TS Eliot line in an essay: "Once upon a time, we knew the world from birth. Now we have to learn it again, piece by piece, understanding from the name out." I think that is part of what Tempest Williams is aiming for in this book: teaching us how to find the broken pieces, the knowledge we lost, and create from that a new way to understand the world, a new relationship with this earth and each other.
Susan, thank you for bringing us together to read FBiaBW as a community. May was too busy for me to get into it; but I renewed my library copy and am jumping in now. I read it years ago and am excited to refresh my memory and glean new insights. I so appreciate sharing this experience with others and reading their comments here. Gratitude for shepherding us through this in the midst of your move!
Joni, Thanks for joining us! I am glad you have time to dive in now, and will look forward to whatever comments you choose to make. If you want to discuss any of the questions or comments on this thread, that's great. If not, I'll put up a new set of questions right after I move, in time for Summer Solstice. Blessings!
Best wishes on your move, Susan! I'm sorry you have to do it again so soon. May you and Arabella make the transition safely.
Thanks much, Jeanne! I am quite excited about this move--not about being a renter for a year, but about going to a smaller community that feels more like home to me. Blessings to you in your beautiful place in the Southern Appalachians.
I am a third of the way through and happy to be reading a TTW book again. I've read several of hers and appreciate her ability to offer reverance and ethical considerations in an intimate giving/sharing.
"Our kinship with Earth must be maintained; otherwise we will find ourselves trapped in the center of our own paved-over souls with no way out." p.75
The loss of kinship with Earth and Others is on my mind every day. My responses to harm and destruction can be highly emotional at times: I once stayed inside my house for two days, because a nearby forest of beautiful old trees was being clearcut. The mechanical buzzing of the efficent sawing and branch stripping machine, and then the thud of a massive Douglas firs falling to their death was simply too much for my nervous system. Reading the section on the murder of prairie dogs caused a similar response.
But we must witness this destruction to build our ethical and moral foundations of kinship behavior. So I read and wince. And am thankful that my reaction is so visceral.
From p. 89: "Quite simply, the story of the Utah prairie dog is the story of the range of our compassion. If we can extend our idea of community to include the lowliest of creatures...we will indeed be closer to a path of peace and tolerance. If we can accomdate the "other," the shadow we will see on our own home ground will be the forecast of our own species' extended winter of the soul."
I may have read this book before or perhaps reviews or articles. I made a note in the beginning of the prairie dog section to look up an indigenous story that I vaguely recalled about the relationship between prairie dogs and rain. And then there it was on p. 88: "If you take away all of the prairie dogs, there will be no one to cry for the rain." That simple understanding has been with me for years but I couldn't remember where I heard or read it.
My partner and I have been talking about division and othering as we are assaulted every day by such horrid examples under the current administration. He was a US peacekeeper in the 1990's Bosnian war that resulted in ethnic cleansing of and by people who were once neighbors and friends, and witnessed how inhumane humans can be. We grow concerned each day as we are bombarded with Executive Orders of hate and othering. Our country and culture has always struggled to be united but the progress we made in our short history has been a painful and remarkable journey that is both strong and fragile.
Wishing you a smooth move to your funky new abode!
Sue, Thanks for contributing to the discussion here! I think that two top things I love about Tempest Williams' writing is that she is able to be vulnerable on the page, and also that her mystical communion with the earth is part of everything she writes. It takes courage to be ourselves in our writing, and Terry doesn't lack that.
Your point that we must witness what is happening, in particular the destruction of the community of this planet, in order to grow our kinship and also our own self-care, is a really good one. Good for you for knowing yourself well enough to not flinch and also to recognize when your heart is hurting. Your comment about being thankful that your reaction is so visceral struck me as really wise--if we intellectualize what is happening, we weaken our connection and our ability to empathize and to act on behalf of the "least of us," whether they are humans in need or prairie dogs or those Douglas-firs falling with a thud in the clearcut.
I believe that the "no one to cry for rain" comes from a Paiute story that Tempest Williams has written about in other contexts. I know I've heard that about prairie dogs in other First Peoples' knowledge and in fact, I saw a Navajo rug design that the weaver explained as prairie dogs piercing the summer thunderstorm clouds to bring rain, so it may be something shared among various cultures.
Your point about division and othering is a really cogent one. One of the reasons I teach terraphilia is that spending time observing the relationships between species that weave natural communities is a wonderful lesson in the value of diversity. Monocultures like wheat fields require enormous support in terms of water, fertilizer, herbicides and fossil fuels to even survive one season of growth. While diverse communities like Palouse prairie or sagebrush shrublands are self-sustaining because they are woven by the interactions of many kinds of different beings. Diversity is how life thrives; tribalism and ethnic cleansing is the way of death for human communities both in the literal and figurative sense.
Thanks again for taking time to bring your thoughtful comments to the discussion!
Hi Susan,
I'm wishing you good luck in your new place. I'm hoping you do enjoy your time there.
I haven't read the book, but I've put it on my to-read list. It sounds fascinating. When I was a college instructor, my students and I interviewed survivors of Cambodia's Killing Fields. These survivors were gracious and honest.
Regarding 9/11, I'm originally from New York City, though I now live in the Midwest. At the time, my aunt lived in Manhattan, and my brother worked there. It was completely terrifying because I couldn't communicate with them at all and was left feeling horrified, powerless, and scared, like the rest of our nation. My brother later told me that when he was driving across a bridge from the city to the suburb where he lived, the bridge was filled with papers that had flown all the way onto the bridge. Simply horrifying.
Beth, Thanks for the good wishes. I'm moving to a rental and viewing it as a kind of sabbatical while I look for a house to buy there. (I haven't rented in about 40 years, so it's kind of like going back to grad school in a way, and the house is as funky as many of my college rentals were.)
Interviewing survivors of Cambodia's Killing Fields must have been intense, and quite a learning experience. Good for you for giving your students that kind of heart-expanding opportunity. As Sue Kusch said in her comments on the book (and I'm paraphrasing here), we have to witness the horrors of the world in order to develop our moral compass and, I would add, our compassion muscles too.
Thank you for that view of 9/11 through your brother's eyes. The image of the papers from the offices in the Twin Towers blown all the way to the bridge he was driving across from the city to his home is an eerie one. I'm glad he was okay, and I assume your aunt was too. It's an event none of us who were alive then will ever forget.
Blessings to you and yours!
I am reading the book. As with all of TTW writing, I love it. For some reason, I've not read this book yet, so really appreciate the choice of it here so I have the opportunity. I will (hopefully) get back here to address some of your well-posed questions. Thank you for opening up a wonderful discussion!
Jenny, I am glad that the Terraphilia Book Club prompted you to read Finding Beauty in a Broken World. I think it isn't as well-known as some of her other books because it is not an easy read, and it asks the reader to engage in difficult questions about ourselves, our species, and our impact on the earth and each other. But once you make the effort, the way Terry structures the narrative and the stories she tells are profoundly meaningful. I'll look forward to any comments you have. May the book bring you insight and inspiration!