We seem to possess a natural searching and collecting mentality, and it appears to have served man well over the millenia.
While out foraging for fungi and ‘whatnot’ recently, it began to dawn on me how fulfilling such tasks can be.
I am reminded of a man I saw in Crete, who each day rowed out to a little rocky outcrop to collect sea salt. It seemed to me an idyllic existence; A ‘daily grind’ linked to the natural world as opposed to one as just a small cog in a man-made machine.
There is an excitement in not knowing what one might find, but hoping there will be a pleasant surprise.
It is addictive, so limits need to be set.
‘I will keep looking for another hour, but if i don’t find anything i will head back’. Of course we need to magic-up a series of extentions; ‘Right, a final ten minutes. If nothing is found then I am definitely free to leave’.
‘OK, I will count down slowly from 60, then that’s it!’
We have to do this because we intuit that there is a right time for everything and to abandon the search prematurely would leave too much hanging. The mind has not yet completed it’s cycle and so would be a real ‘nag’ to us for the rest of the day.
We are powerless to decide though. Either we find something that satisfies us or an external force must wrest us from the search and we take heed of such omens. The ‘invisible powers’ have spoken!
In time, this becomes a superstitious enterprise. How could it not be?
With repetition we start to see patterns and with pattern comes meaning. Changes and timings are noticed; if certain conditions bring the same result three times then we tuck that information away and keep it under our hats.
To get up early each morning and not know quite what we might find, adds zest to this ‘business of life’.
The foraging and collecting impulse seems universal though. It will find an outlet somewhere.
Probably ‘better’ for it to be negotiating nature’s labyrinth, than the man-made one we constantly rub up against.
