Being With Rocks

Fishtail Gypsum

Over the past week, I have been reflecting on my many visits to the Teck Gallery at the Royal Ontario Museum. How can I shift from just looking at these (stunning! beautiful!) specimens to a more visceral experience? In this post, I share some preliminary observations.

Note: This post was inspired by an article by Craig Holdrege of the Nature Institute in Ghent N.Y.: Being With The World: A Path To Qualitative Insight.

When I first look at this specimen, I am struck by its complexity and dynamic structure. I contemplate it from many angles, and observe — seemingly countless! — details. I read the curator’s comments, and feel a sense of wonder…The forces of Nature are simply amazing.

I touch my body, and consider the qualities of my own skeleton. I have never seen it, of course, but somehow, I can feel it. And now I feel a kind of resonance with the object in the case in front of me. I have the sense that my bones share many of the rock’s qualities.

There is an obvious, important difference: this rock has been forming over many thousands of years, while my own bone cycle is already on the home stretch at the age of 70. However, I do have some understanding of how my skeleton has taken shape over my lifetime, and perhaps this can help me feel the nature of the forces that have shaped this rock. No longer just a static object, it gives me a momentary glimpse — a frame of reference — for its underlying dynamic processes.

Based on my limited knowledge of geology, I believe that these processes are mainly horizontal in nature, as far as the Earth’s crust is concerned. However, the gesture of my skeleton is vertical. But I would not be able to stand without the ground to stand on — another resonant experience!

Now I ask myself, what is my skeleton for? I reflect on how the structure of my bones is somehow purpose-driven. They make it possible for me to do so many different things. Could it be that rocks are also in some way purpose-driven? Why is it that even the most barren rocky scarps stir me deeply? Could it be that the forces shaping the rocks are the same as those shaping my bones? And so I begin to feel that I am no longer looking at the rock, but being with it.