The Cultivation of Tenderness for Incompletely Satisfied Longings
The title to this essay comes from the book titled, the Gypsies, by Jan Yoors, a flemish-born man who joined the Lowara Rom at the age of 12 and lived with them for several years, an almost too-good-to-be-true story. One of his Rom adult mentors reminds him gently of the importance of “cultivating” that tenderness mentioned above, when they notice his un-gypsy and clutching behavior.
As I transition more and more into an animist paradigm (not a one-time or easy task, as I’ve written about before), this notion keeps me an almost constant company.
As an inmate of this culture, for years I’ve hungered after instant gratification - to have everything I want whenever I want it. My journey into my body as a center (rather than my center lying in material objects, or future relationships, out there somewhere), and into the fleshing-out of the moment, has caused me to realize that sometimes I simply find myself hungry, dirty, wet, cold, uncomfortable, or (the hardest for me right now) lonely. And I can just sit with it.
I can find my relationship with the world change in the blink of an eye, as I transition from a hungry, grasping predator’s eye, to the savoring of the sweetness of lack, the appreciation of an empty space (or partly-filled space) within.
Without a doubt, the Rom, as a tribal (in Daniel Quinn’s definition of the word) and nomadic people, have developed a culture-wide expertise in the wealth of the moment. In his book, Jan Yoors describes moments which verge on an animistic view of the world. The sheer time-richness the nomadic Rom possess empowers their ability to rehabilitate horses (and make a tidy profit at market), recover from psychological trauma, and raise competent and powerful children into masterful adulthood.
So many pieces of their culture exist to reinforce the continuing presence of the moment, and one’s focus there. “The cultivation of tenderness for incompletely satisfied longings”…almost as if to make a kind of life-art, a sweetness of mood, that translates so easily into the more tangible art of poetry, song, and speech, “the wild, sad, songs” of the Rom.
I recognize this attitude in other animist cultures I interact with, in my friendships with their members. The ease of melancholy to make beauty, and then transition simply into celebration and joy.
If I played at all with stereotypes, I would say, “hippie” culture differs from “gypsy” culture, in that hippies seem to place an emphasis on positive feelings, on love, peace, and happiness; whereas the “gypsies” seem to value the entire emotional range which a human can express…anger, fear, misery, joy, love, peace, no emotions fall outside it, and tears fall as easily as laughter, down, down to feed the earth.
Why make a distinction between “hippie” and “gypsy”? Obviously, neither label can describe any particular person. But I’ve always felt something hidden, and thus disatisfying, in the “it’s all good” philosophy that seems popularly connected with the subculture of the hippies. Some things don’t feel good…but we can sing about them. And singing feels good. For the Tzutujil Maya (according to Martin Prechtel), “singing” and “weeping” belong to the same word, a word that also can describe the Tzutujil shaman who heals the sick.
Healing, singing, weeping…a tenderness for incompletely satisfied longings.
November 19th, 2006 at 11:45 pm
Ah… it might take a thorough effort to create the environment neccessary for the recovery from psychological trauma, an environment like the Rom, the environment crucial to take the next step from simply hanging posters of Jack Sparrow in the living room and exalting the unanchored folk of the past (and rarely the present, unless I’m missing something) as icons intended solely for the pedestal into actually living, singing, dancing the breadth of human experience. Countless times I’ve seen the same pirate/gypsy/ninja/rebellious drifter motif glorified, a fantastic sign pointing to longing, but to actually understand and find an ambrosial fresh free way of life, wouldn’t you say that’s an immensely difficult task?
Or perhaps an effortless one, to say, I live free, I forsake the leash, I create my own rules — let authority figures sneer and condemn, even if I spend my entire life alone I do as I love, and the cost is worth it.
I guess it all goes back to the trauma, the difficulty lies in finding a place for healing, a place apart from the overwhelming cultures and the shackles that engulf so many in the paralyzation of despair thus resulting in a search for a place where “it’s all good” or a place where pain is currency, places excluding the latitudes of emotion, and also a realization that although unsatisified an individuals yearnings can fruit. & that’s why I think healers are so important, that we as imperfect social beings have a need for healers and artistans to be common and prolific.
We need healers to lend their hands to those drowning… those who hold back their songs and tears, because with the expression of those, they become healers too, they grow and flower and in doing so form their own links in the garland of health and beauty.
I have much respect for these writings and doings exploring the intricacies of an alternative (for now) brewing culture. To show it’s possible, it’s been done before and it can be done again, freedom is more than a dream — to interact with, explore, and breathe life into that dream, that itself is a powerful elixir.
I tip my hat to you, sir, a gesture of thanks for the inspiration I have found in your impressive displays of ripened knowledge, captivating wisdom, and flowing eloquence.
November 20th, 2006 at 2:10 pm
Richard said:
the environment crucial to take the next step from simply hanging posters of Jack Sparrow in the living room and exalting the unanchored folk of the past (and rarely the present, unless I’m missing something) as icons
Yes…in fact rarely to pop conceptions of Pirates, Gypsies, Native Americans, or name-your-tribal-culture, match the reality. In the case of Pirates, their decision making systems birthed the first written (if not recorded..see the Iroquois Wampum Belts) democratic documents, from the established tradition of writing and signing a document called the “Ship’s Articles”. Read “Honor Among Thieves” by J. Rogozinski for more info, or google “pirate democracy”. So those posters of Jack Sparrow summon up an entirely mythical tradition of pirating.
As far as “remnants of the past” and not the present, Rom culture still plows along where it can, though they’ve made some concessions to 20th/21st century notions of schooling for their children, but they continue with an intact culture. So I don’t see their traditions as dead ones, though this does happen all too often with most tribal cultures.
Countless times I’ve seen the same pirate/gypsy/ninja/rebellious drifter motif glorified, a fantastic sign pointing to longing, but to actually understand and find an ambrosial fresh free way of life, wouldn’t you say that’s an immensely difficult task?
What we romanticize tends to tell a lot about us, truly, and also demonstrates where we stop: with the romanticization. For that reason, I advise the use of Theater Games! Step across the line, play games, “pretend”, and see if you’ve found some new ways to live that satisfy more, and that feed the living world. Difficult? Only as difficult as finding someone to play with. Which yes, can challenge us to the very marrow, or come easily as finding a new friend.
Or perhaps an effortless one, to say, I live free, I forsake the leash, I create my own rules — let authority figures sneer and condemn, even if I spend my entire life alone I do as I love, and the cost is worth it.
You see, I feel we became humans together, with other humans, and I consider exploring our humanness a group activity. We also need our hermits, our lone wanderers of the wastes, but they need a home to come to…a home full of life, and laughter. Full of us. So I don’t encourage a “well I’ll just live alone then” type of perspective, but a “whatever it takes to bring us together again, the sundered and isolated ones”, ya know?
a place where pain is currency, places excluding the latitudes of emotion, and also a realization that although unsatisified an individuals yearnings can fruit.
This just sounds beautiful.