in memory of the beloved Wayfarer Timothy Duncan McCallum (1965-2023)Greetings Good Travelers and Wayfarers,I hope this note, posted in between Wayfaring Poet Profiles, finds you well and that your spirit is vital in these uncertain, perplexing, sweltering, and increasingly unhinged times.On this end, I have had a very busy month but I did manage to squeeze in a few days away with family spent at higher elevations. In all honesty, I wish we could have stayed longer but even small sips from the Great Source of Nature can carry a Wayfarer’s soul for a while. It is this topic of “sipping from the Great Source of Nature” that I want to briefly discuss. I want to discuss it in the context of being an exceedingly important antidote for the times we are living through, thus, a practice, and not just a fleeting pastime. I’ve had many conversations over the last few months with people who’ve reported that they are struggling with feelings of being overwhelmed. Phrases I’ve heard include: “I’m burned out,” “I feel weighted down,” “I feel disconnected from something vital,” “I’ve lost my inspiration for my art,” “I have no energy,” “I’m beside myself,” “I need renewal.” For some of these good “Travelers” (a term my late teacher used for anyone who is attempting to tend their inner life), the source of these sentiments is varied, ranging from internal shifts and experiences of an initiatory nature to the impact of personal losses and tragedies (grief). Some are traversing the territory mentioned in the often quoted Dante line: Midway along the journey of life, I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path. Translation: The experiences of midlife, what Jungian author James Hollis calls “The Middle Passage.” What often gets left out when citing this quote is the end of the phrase: …But if I would show the good that came of it, I must talk about things other than the good. And, so, alongside the topic of “sipping from the Great Source of Nature,” I want to talk about the ‘other than good’ — though I also hold the view that some of our challenges can ultimately be good because they lead us to where we need to be.In many of the instances previously mentioned — namely, people experiencing overwhelm — there has also been an additional dimension that people are reporting as a contributing factor and this is a general exhaustion of the soul from the conditions of modernity. Some of these feelings stem from what has been called “eco-anxiety,” which the American Psychological Association defines as: “the chronic fear of environmental cataclysm that comes from observing the seemingly irrevocable impact of climate change and the associated concern for one’s future and that of the next generation.” This is a phenomenon you won’t find in the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition), but it is being reported more and more to therapists, chaplains, and spiritual companions around the world. For others, it’s a combination of other factors: feeling spread thin from a high-velocity lifestyle, fear and unease generated from the media spin and barrage of bad news of the day, and — in addition to the climate of the planet — the current climate of culture, politics, and society. It can lead to intrapsychic conditions colored by feelings of futility, irritability, and some of the other symptoms mentioned above. Drawing upon an ancient concept of the Wayfaring poets, I have begun to call this Red Dust Syndrome.THE CONCEPT OF THE RED DUSTThe term “red dust” comes down to us from early Tao (Dao)-oriented Wayfaring poets from thousands of years ago in China — tao/dao being a word that translates as “Way or Path” but which is nothing less than an ecologically-oriented ontology, a participatory spiritual cosmology.The early Wayfarers used this imagery of the red dust to refer to the noisy, bustling life of worldly strife of the city and the many delusions and capacities for senseless destruction contained therein. In my path and way of seeing, I think of this as an “energy-residue” — a palpable psychospiritual state of strain brought on by overexposure to such conditions. In contrast, the primal (meaning original) Wayfarers were classically drawn to the quiet, the slow, the peaceful, the natural, the rural, the realm of cultivated gardens, and the wilderness of forests and mountains. They were always contemplating the inner-pattern of life and gauging whether they were living in true accord with it. They were always attempting to cultivate a sense of harmony with self, other, Nature, Cosmos. Being deeply influenced by this Tao (Dao) concept / cosmology / experience, the same calling, or orientation of consciousness, led Wayfarers in Korea and Japan to seek out their own mountains, forests, tea houses, and gardens of contemplation as well. Intuitively, the loose ...
