Tag: Dale Estey

Oxpecker Haven

My good friend Dale Estey and I decry the fact that – as we’ve grown older – we’ve come to realize there really is “nothing new under the sun.” There are few stories or facts so amazing or unique or unpleasant that we haven’t heard of them before – in some variation.

It’s a truism nailed in Ecclesiastes 1:9.

“What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 1:9

It is true there is little – fantastic or horrific – that shocks or surprises me now. Folks be crazy. So many stories or objects feel like attempted recreations of familiar and well-worn themes. Stories follow well-worn paths to eventual resolution. Products ebb and flow in supermarkets and box stores. There is a certain sameness to them all, in spite of the come-ons promising “new and improved.”

My husband is an artist. For his doctor friend Dr. Marc Blasser, Hank painted a portrait of a rhino in situ on the plains of Africa. The rhinoceros is a special symbol for Marc. (His email handle is “King Rhino” for heaven’s sake. He is clearly committed.)

So when my husband delivered the painting some years back, Marc admired the finished product but, upon closer inspection, stared quizzically at the painting and asked: “Where are my oxpeckers?”

When my husband told me this story, I was a little taken aback. Oxpeckers? Seriously? Well, yes. They are a real thing. See all those little guys on the back of that hippo below? That’s them.

I knew vaguely of a symbiotic relationship that existed among African wildlife with some kind of birds. I did not know – until this recent conversation – what they were called.

Large African animals of many varieties – rhinos, hippopotami, giraffes, gazelle, water buffalo, et. al. – have an implicit deal with the oxpeckers. The large animals tolerate what might otherwise be the incessant and annoying presence of the birds.

The oxpeckers peck away at will on the lumbering beasts to rid their skin of pests, such as lice and ticks, and a variety of other savory and tasty bugs. In return for this favor, the animals do not kill the oxpeckers outright with a swat of their massive tails (like giraffes might do) or eradicate them en masse by suddenly submerging them under water without warning, (as in the case of hippopotami). That would be biting the bill that feeds off them.

It is a symbiotic and mutually beneficial relationship between beast and bird that you might be able to identify with if you’ve ever been covered with unwanted masses of lice or ticks. Personally, I have not.

Inspired by this story and the delightful and unusual moniker of these birds, I set out to integrate them into our life on a more permanent basis. We are in a new house and needed to set up a new internet domain. Oxpeckers Haven, I thought. Perfect.

There won’t be another domain name in the neighborhood to match it and it will likely cause the same sort of delighted comment that I had. Maybe a laugh or two, I mused.

Oxpecker. I admit I did not initially recognize the potentially obscene connotation. As it turned out, oxpeckers would not pass the internet service provider’s censors. Then I thought about it. Oh right. Well, it wasn’t as if I tried to call the domain name “bull’s penis” or somesuch. Maybe that would have made it through. I guess the offense was the suggestion of vulgarity.

I was doomed by the authority of the ignorant and presumptuous ISP censor. I was forced to concede that ours would not be the new internet home of Oxpeckers Haven. We chose a more banal, if personally meaningful to my husband, domain name: PanAmRTW. That may well be the subject of a blog post up the road.

Pity the poor oxpeckers. I sadly came to realize why I would never have learned about oxpeckers in geography class at the conservative and prudish school system where I received my elementary education.

Which, in the humble opinion of this lowly scribe, is bullpuckey.

Jeff Brown, Redux

When you’re good, you’re good. I have followed Jeff Brown with equal measures of respect and resonance for some time now. His writing is consistently strong and insightful. His new book, Humanifestations (link below this post), is another marker on his journey to make sense of the human condition.

Brown’s most recent post (below) resonated strongly.

He points out a human tendency to credit exceptional creative output or the deeper insights of talented individuals as “Gifts of the Divine.” He disputes this and calls out the human tendency to hide our light under bushels. I both agree and disagree with him.

Brown argues that if humanity believes the wondrous works exhibited by individuals are based only on external factors, it discourages us from accessing and owning what is inherently great and gifted in ourselves. Without owning it, Brown suggests, humanity will continue to marinate in mediocrity.

Jeff Brown argues – the former lawyer dies hard – that his writing insights and clarity have come from the hard emotional work necessary to overcome a difficult childhood.

Again I agree and disagree with him. I had a hard childhood. I have done a ton of personal “work.” At the same time, I also feel I was given a “gift” for writing. And, yes, sometimes it feels like a Divine “gift.” Sometimes I have written things that I have to read over and over again to fully get what I have written. I cannot fully credit or connect what I have written with “me.”

Dale Estey, a dear author friend, and I have a throughline in our friendship. We often talk about our mutual belief in what we call “invisible hands” that overtakes our writing. We agree we do not always consciously “think up” what we write. How words get put together often feels unbidden. Painters, dancers, and even athletes all speak of this phenomenon, too. Think Flashdance.

Jeff Brown is right. Humans tend to downplay genius when they find intimations of it in themselves. Or credit a “higher power.” Well, I also believe there could be “something else” at work in the creative process.

For the love of god, do not ask me what that something is or ask me to explain it. For the most part, our society is just plain incompetent at handling “the gifted.” A perfect storm of luck and opportunity, and will is needed. It takes a certain social alchemy for a child’s gifts to be recognized early, encouraged, and supported to develop their talent over the long haul.

And it can be a very long haul, fraught with emotional and other landmines. [Read the late Swiss psychologist Alice Miller’s The Drama of the Gifted Child for an analysis of this dilemma.]

I am happy to feature Jeff Brown on my blog again as he triggered one of the biggest issues I have faced in writing. My work or god’s work? Who’s to say? And to what end? Who knows?

All I know is that it is a good thing when coherent messages that promote the value of each human life get pushed out there – over and over again. Because we are human and need to be frequently reminded of that.

Whether humanitarian messages come from “the Divine” or are a distillation of our own hard-won insights that come from processing “hard things” is more or less immaterial to me. Any writing that promotes a greater appreciation for the sanctity of humanity and individuals gets my support – whether it comes from Divine inspiration or inspiration from deep within ourselves.

Take it away, Jeff Brown … Let me know what you think, dear readers. It is a legitimate point of contention for debate and wider discussion. Jeff Brown argues his point brilliantly. Like the genius he is.

“I went through a particularly potent writing phase some years ago. I was writing one clarified quote after another, and immediately sharing them in social media. What I found interesting was that many people would come onto my walls, and remark that I was “channeling.” At first, I imagined this a good thing. As though I had somehow formed a bond with the Divine, and the Divine was using me to bring their m, I arrived at a different perspective. I had worked long and hard, and overcome much, and whatever insights I had arrived at did not come from the beyond. They came from within me, from the heart of my lived experience, from the depths of my story. And then I looked closer at many of the ways that we associate moments of achievement with something beyond ourselves: “Her performance was out of this world”, “He rose above his circumstances and channeled greatness,” “Her genius is heaven sent,” “He has found his DIVINE purpose.” It is as though we are only allowed to own our mediocre achievements. Anything clarified or brilliant or awesome had to come from somewhere beyond our humanness. Little wonder our views of enlightenment and awakening are frequently associated with transcendence. We haven’t been taught that we are the marvel, and that our lived and learned experience is the source of our most profound creations. If we don’t come to get this, if we continue to bury our magnificence below a bushel of judgment, we will continue to look for our greatness outside of ourselves and our species will never actualize its possibilities. Because we really are marvel-us 🙂. Each of us, a living marvel...”