I was sitting by a little stream, facing it, and above me to my right I could hear it tinkling, like the treble keys of a piano. And to my left, downstream, like the bass end of the piano, I could hear it gurgling.
By virtue of its sound, it felt like the stream was flowing through me. I myself was tinkling and gurgling.
That’s a great example, I think, of how ecosystems can flow through us. Sometimes we feel a landscape just beyond us or before us, and we are in motion through the living stillness.
Sometimes dappled sunlight comes in our eyes, and it ignites our thoughts with goodness. It inspires us somehow.
A smell, rich and loamy on a path suddenly calls our attention to new warmth animating wet ground, and we are a part of the cycle of growth and decay.
It occurs to me also, that while predators have eyes facing forward, their prey have eyes facing to the sides. Perhaps to better see their predators, but maybe the better to enjoy ecosystems flowing through them.
This thought gives me insight into the spirit of contentment. Despite the ever-present possibility of becoming somebody’s dinner, prey do not live in a state of fear, but alertness.
Most predators are alert too, and content, but like us, the prey they desire is elusive. When it comes to tracking food, human “progress” has made it easier for us than for our fellow predators. But our progress has made us search for more difficult prey: addiction.
So, unlike most predators and their prey, we have lost our contentment. Our sensual alertness has been hijacked by the Big Dopamine landscape of addiction and more more more.
You know very well that you would like to be more content. So, it is only the subtle things, the Little Dopamine things, that will enhance our alertness. Listening to babbling brooks, for example. Or the birds singing in different trees. Dappled sunlight and the loamy smells of decay. Only qualia like this will regrow your contentment.