Primordial Soup and Swamp Wisdom 2024:
Three years ago, while hiking on the Bruce Trail, I chanced across this shallow body of water in a small clearing. Rich in plant and animal life, the mature, mixed forest I’d been walking through surrounded it. The primordial soup emanated a tangible generative energy, and a fallen log at its edge made a natural bench. Sitting there in contemplation has since become an annual spring tradition. It’s “discovery” came at an opportune time as the footpath has since been rerouted, although it is still accessible via an unmaintained road allowance.
Merriam-Webster defines primordial soup as, “a mixture of organic molecules in evolutionary theory from which life on earth originated.”1 In other words, it contains the ingredients from which life emerges.
Sitting swamp side, I wonder what exists beneath the surface, beyond what is visible. Conditions for the life that will emerge are all present, even if the forms are not yet apparent. Those creative processes have been evolving and adapting for billions of years. They will continue long after we are gone, influencing ecosystems beyond the one I see.
What life does the water bring to the pond? What beings does the water sustain while it is there? How is the water changed during its stay, and what does it carry away? How does the pond nurture the plants and animals who call this habitat home all year? I’ve observed deer on its frozen surface munching on low hanging branches. What about those for whom this is but a stop along the way? Who do they in turn affect? What do they know that we don’t and what can they teach us about our environment? I ask myself the same questions.
My volunteer work with the local Bruce Trail club focuses on habitat protection, land stewardship, reducing biodiversity loss, reestablishing, protecting/recovery of native species. A large part of this involves managing invasive plants—those that have become established outside of their natural range. Once introduced, often inadvertently by trail users, invasive species quickly become established and compete for light, nutrients, and water, usurping the resources native plants need to grow and thrive. By degrading natural areas, they pose a threat to environmental habitats, agriculture, and forest regeneration.
Recognizing invasive plant species is much easier than recognizing invasive thoughts, beliefs, and fears that crowd out what is seeking expression within me.
As I sit there, I reflect on what that is. Then I hear Dad’s words as he lay dying. “I trust,” he said, his voice stronger than ever. There was a time when not planning or knowing what was next was uncomfortable. Now I know that it will be apparent when the time is right. I just need to listen and act on where my inner guidance. Learning to trust my inner voice when it speaks, even if I don’t know where it will lead, is a life-long process. Most of it is outside of my control anyway.
My attention returns to the swamp and its ongoing procreative processes. It is never the same from one moment to the next, constantly evolving and adapting. What swamp wisdom does it have for me today?
Notes:
- Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, s.v. “primordial soup,” accessed May 29, 2024, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/primordial%20soup.
Hearing that loving, nurturing inner voice among the invasive ones is a lifelong journey, and one I’m grateful to be on.
Thanks Jeff. So true! The hardest part might be making the time to listen!
Absolutely.