Holy Nature - Enature - On The Desert Island -1... < 95% Top-Rated >

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I am on (I suspect there are many islands within this one—the island of thirst, the island of loneliness, the island of bliss). I have named this first phase "The Unfastening." Every day, another rivet of my civilized personality pops loose. Part V: A Letter to the World I Left To whoever finds this bottle: Holy Nature - Enature - On The Desert Island -1...

Let me explain. When the ship went down, I prayed to a God of stained glass and steeples. Three weeks later, alone on a sliver of sand and volcanic rock, I pray to the God of the rising tide and the coconut embryo. I have discovered that a desert island is not a place of lack. It is the world without a lid. The term Enature came to me on the seventh night. I was starving, shivering, cursing the stars for being so coldly beautiful. In the city, I used to pay for "green experiences" — a yoga retreat, an organic smoothie, a walk in the park. That was performative nature. A transaction. End of Entry -1

I have discovered as a verb. To enature means to cease observing the world and to become the act of observing. It means to taste the salt on your own skin and recognize it as the same salt that wept from the first life crawling out of the primordial ooze. Final Thought for Entry -1... Tomorrow, I will attempt to make fire without a lens. Yesterday, I learned to read the clouds. Today, I learned the Latin name of the bird that wakes me at dawn ( Zosterops lateralis — the silvereye). But I will not trap it. I will not own it. Part V: A Letter to the World I

Do not send a search party. I am not lost. I am found .

Holy Nature includes the fang. It includes the rot. It includes the parasitic worm and the bone-dry drought. On this island, I have learned to say "Amen" to the mosquito as well as the sunset. This is the hardest lesson: The sacred is not comfortable.

On this island, there is no Wi-Fi, but there is a different kind of connection. The morning glory vines that crawl over my driftwood shelter are not "plants." They are relatives. When it rains, I do not run for cover; I stand in the downpour and remember that I am 70% water. This is the first lesson of : You are not in nature. You are nature, aware of itself.