The landscape tells me stories
The landscape
There is still some wildness here where I live. It’s not exactly wilderness, but not every inch of land and sea has been cultivated or farmed or covered in tarmac or built upon. There are still cliffs covered in brambles and gorse and heather and foxgloves, marking the seasons.
The coast, with the tides ever rising and receding, is still there. It would be more difficult for mankind to remove the tides. The moon is still out of reach and can continue undisturbed in its orbit around the earth.
I run to find some space for myself: to think, or to be free of thinking; to feel and to process. I run here, to get away from all the things that feel like disturbances: the things of society that interferes with the natural order of life, that which is balanced and wholesome.
This mindful running restores balance and equilibrium.
The stories
The space and the processes that running and the landscape give me access to, results in the making of meaning.
The human way of making meaning is the telling of stories. We connect the moments of our experiences together into a narrative that is interwoven with the narratives around us. In the telling of and listening to of stories occurs resonance, amplification, dissonance and forgetting.
The natural world of which we are a part, but simultaneously estranged from, offers a multitude of metaphors. Whenever my own searching narratives find a metaphor in the landscape, I feel more grounded, more connected and that I belong here.
Two runs, the tide and two hearts
Tuesday morning highest tide
It’s my first run of February. This month I’m looking for heart shaped routes to run. I’m fundraising for the Joint Council for the Welfare of Immigrants and we’ve set up a #HaveAHeart campaign with Reunite Families UK.
Read more about the #HaveAHeart Campaign.
I have a short route planned and set out across the golf course in Pennard. The view greets me as I run towards the edge of the course. Wow, I’ve never seen the tide this high! My route goes along the edge and I wonder whether I’ll make it through.
If the tide is against you, you just have to wade through. I was up to my thighs in ice-cold water, determined to get the heart shapes. It made me think of the obstacles in front of so many families in their determination just to be in the same country. Their path is submerged, not even visible and for many with no way to wade through.
Crossing the stepping stones to the other side of the valley will be impossible today. I’ll have to be satisfied with the one heart this side of the valley. That was sort of the plan anyway.
Thursday morning stepping stones
When conditions are favourable what was difficult becomes easy and what was impossible becomes possible.
Many natural conditions occur in cycles: tides and days and seasons. One simply has to be patient. Conditions created by systems and structures invented by humans can be rigid and fixed: cultural bias, prejudice, systemic discrimination, borders. A high tide of hatred, fear and opposition to love does not naturally subside. It takes the emergence of a counterculture of love and inclusion to push back.
My thoughts turned again to the families separated at the UK border. Unlike the separations that will cease when the pandemic finally comes to an end, the border induced separations will not end unless we end them.
Two hearts connected
Just look at that! The landscape agrees! There are two hearts, beautifully matched and tidily connected across the river. The crossing is necessary. Conditions need to be favourable. The tide ebbs and flows and all we have to do is wait.
And yet, for some even the ebbing tide will not be enough. Can we stand by and watch their distress as the tide recedes but their crossing is still denied? Can we truly enjoy our reunification with loved ones, whilst their separation remains indefinite?
Will you help me change the system by which families are separated by the UK border? All of us together can make it happen.
Heartbreak hill
My route for Saturday morning included heartbreak hill. It is about a mile long, but feels longer. There are a few turns and if you don’t know the hill, each turn can bring disappointment at still not having reached the top. And yet it is really a joy, a free choice and a huge privilege to be out amongst the trees, running up a hill!
The disappointment strewn along the journey of family immigration to the UK is truly heart breaking and can be heart shattering. Many suffer with longterm mental and emotional damage. Separation from one’s loved ones caused by cruelty is very different from separation that are necessary for other reasons. The thing is that cruelty is unnecessary.
As always, a climb gets rewarded with a view.
In my attempts to create heart shapes, I have been veering off the beaten track a bit more. This leads to new angles on familiar views and little adventures like running through a swamp!
You can see my Strava route here:
Get involved
Take part in #HaveAHeart this Valentine’s Day
You can get more information on my blog Running for Love, or on the JCWI webpage.
Donate to support JCWI’s work
I have committed to a year of fundraising for the vital work of JCWI.
Your support will be much appreciated!
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Join my fundraising team
I have already teamed up with Lauren Tormey and there is always room for more.
Immigration policy has been contentious for very long and the narrative about immigration has become increasing toxic over the last decade. Yet the policies have deeply damaging and long lasting impacts on people’s lives.
