A kind of dismantling. Instead of dominating the land rather we co exist. We are 'of' the land. The land is wild and alive in us - the light, wind, soil and water mingle with our bodies when we spend time learning and caring for a place.
"Maybe we need a word that means “legally owning a place but not hoarding it from the world or denying other people’s connections with it.” '
Love this idea!
In Hawaiian, I have read that you don’t call yourself your pet’s owner. You are their Kahu.
Kahu - Guardian, protector, steward, beloved, and attendant. Someone entrusted. With the safekeeping of something precious, something cherished.
Truth telling feels important, the wounds live. Acknowledging the history, keeping those stories alive, being generous and being with what is. Living in reciprocity; land custodians, locals and the land. All caring for each other.
What a glorious read Mike. I know Adam a little and his love of those islands and enthusiasm to do the right thing by them and anyone for whom they mean something. I hope you find that island one day
Indigenous communities in the non-Anglo world have always viewed themselves as rightful guardians, rather than owners, of the land, especially in clan-based societies that span vast territories. I learned this while interacting with friends from the Nilgiris region of southern India. This perspective is reflected in their open yet assertive ways of life, which welcome and educate visitors on how they coexist with the land, encouraging them to do the same. Through this approach, visitors can develop a connection of trust and belonging with the custodians, which can mitigate feelings of anger and envy towards exclusive ownership.
Oh just the idea of those sea storms would get me too!
Mike, have you read "The Treasure of Far Island" by Willa Cather? It's one of my favorites of her stories. I do think you'd enjoy it. You can find it online here: https://cather.unl.edu/writings/shortfiction/ss044
It's much more humble-- only five and a half acres, with no buildings or utilities to speak of-- so more like the island of your childhood. Maybe suitable for a tiny, off grid house, which, of course, you'd have to bring everything in for by canoe because it's in a protected canoe area. Also, there are barely any trees on it because it's near the border with Canada and cold as a sow's tit up there, as my mother used to say. Would I share it with the community? I can't quite imagine many folks wanting to share it, but I also can't imagine bothering to put a lock on the door, and there's no way I could live there full-time, so it would be shared by default, I guess. I do like the idea of having it and then passing it along someday. Not to my children because they're not of the sort to enjoy that type of solitude. But to someone who would enjoy it without fussing about with it overmuch (being more of a steward, as you say) and then passing it along themselves when they were done. That seems fair. Fair-ish?
My goodness I loved this, but more than anything I loved the conclusion. We are on our tenth restoration/reno and every time I’ve said we are just the custodians, this baby will outlive us all! Currently starting on a 1500s Tithe barn. It looks pretty from afar, but up close it causes nausea. It’s our little island though, for now.
Right there with you on the occasional urge to sleep on the beach in a sack. It's a pleasure to find and read your Substack. Thanks for letting free subscribers like me tag along/check out your writing.
Custodians of place.
A kind of dismantling. Instead of dominating the land rather we co exist. We are 'of' the land. The land is wild and alive in us - the light, wind, soil and water mingle with our bodies when we spend time learning and caring for a place.
"Maybe we need a word that means “legally owning a place but not hoarding it from the world or denying other people’s connections with it.” '
Love this idea!
In Hawaiian, I have read that you don’t call yourself your pet’s owner. You are their Kahu.
Kahu - Guardian, protector, steward, beloved, and attendant. Someone entrusted. With the safekeeping of something precious, something cherished.
Truth telling feels important, the wounds live. Acknowledging the history, keeping those stories alive, being generous and being with what is. Living in reciprocity; land custodians, locals and the land. All caring for each other.
Was a good read. Thank you.
Thank you for teaching us the word "Kahu." It is a much better concept than owner.
I wonder what John Koenig might suggest as a word.
Do you know his Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows?
https://www.thedictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/words
Of course I couldn’t resist checking out a dictionary with such a wonderful title. A book I never knew I needed til now!
Glad it met with your delight. How many more things could use a language re/imagining I wonder.
So many Emma! ☺️
Yes, but hadn’t really looked at it in a while. New words! How many in total, do you know? Tried to Google it briefly but didn’t find a quick answer.
Oh I'm not sure. Also not sure how many of them' caught on'. But it's such a fun and explorative read.
Yes!
Swooning with the memories of reading Swallows and Amazons…
What a glorious read Mike. I know Adam a little and his love of those islands and enthusiasm to do the right thing by them and anyone for whom they mean something. I hope you find that island one day
Indigenous communities in the non-Anglo world have always viewed themselves as rightful guardians, rather than owners, of the land, especially in clan-based societies that span vast territories. I learned this while interacting with friends from the Nilgiris region of southern India. This perspective is reflected in their open yet assertive ways of life, which welcome and educate visitors on how they coexist with the land, encouraging them to do the same. Through this approach, visitors can develop a connection of trust and belonging with the custodians, which can mitigate feelings of anger and envy towards exclusive ownership.
Oh just the idea of those sea storms would get me too!
Mike, have you read "The Treasure of Far Island" by Willa Cather? It's one of my favorites of her stories. I do think you'd enjoy it. You can find it online here: https://cather.unl.edu/writings/shortfiction/ss044
It just so happens (great minds?) that I was dreaming of buying an island the other day. This one:
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/0-County-Road-53-Brasher-Falls-NY-13613/2058686113_zpid/?rtoken=362f6312-adf3-40d1-bff4-6160ad2cf5b3%7EX1-ZU173d1sgsrcs95_6jzj1&utm_campaign=emo-homerecs-email&utm_source=email&utm_term=urn%3Amsg%3A20240726091252561da2d34e435e58&utm_medium=email&utm_content=forsaleimage-_rid-98pXbSu5mCnEwBC2xASdjn_&fbclid=IwY2xjawEVIkhleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHXpXvULwFDrTsaOlT4TuXnvgKw44_sS3dDpna5ACRG01Om-bgzzxN0EEBQ_aem_cnXUNBkG00lSXzwEPFgl2A
It's much more humble-- only five and a half acres, with no buildings or utilities to speak of-- so more like the island of your childhood. Maybe suitable for a tiny, off grid house, which, of course, you'd have to bring everything in for by canoe because it's in a protected canoe area. Also, there are barely any trees on it because it's near the border with Canada and cold as a sow's tit up there, as my mother used to say. Would I share it with the community? I can't quite imagine many folks wanting to share it, but I also can't imagine bothering to put a lock on the door, and there's no way I could live there full-time, so it would be shared by default, I guess. I do like the idea of having it and then passing it along someday. Not to my children because they're not of the sort to enjoy that type of solitude. But to someone who would enjoy it without fussing about with it overmuch (being more of a steward, as you say) and then passing it along themselves when they were done. That seems fair. Fair-ish?
My goodness I loved this, but more than anything I loved the conclusion. We are on our tenth restoration/reno and every time I’ve said we are just the custodians, this baby will outlive us all! Currently starting on a 1500s Tithe barn. It looks pretty from afar, but up close it causes nausea. It’s our little island though, for now.
A bit like an edible elephant, I think you need to own an island one person's opinion at a time.
I'm looking after it...!
Right there with you on the occasional urge to sleep on the beach in a sack. It's a pleasure to find and read your Substack. Thanks for letting free subscribers like me tag along/check out your writing.
Atlantis' REALLY REALLY TEENSY - TEENY - miniscule, quasi - insignificant step brother. It looks like it at least needs a volleyball named Wilson.....
Good to see you, my friend.