Some things are simple. They really are. They might be the hardest things, but they’re still simple. Let’s say you have a flow, a place where energy squeezed out of the earth in a watering process transforms that energy of coming forth into an energy of going forth, and is (we say) water flowing.
This flow, however, is still the watering, still a capacity of the hills themselves, as transformers. Of course, if one looks for the flow of water, one sees its record but not the water. If you look for the watering instead, however, the flow is everywhere.
In the image above, notice how flows are continually broken, continually creating new flows from old, and more hills, to create more watering energy. It’s all movement — and the transformation of movement. The hills move water, the water moves hills, the hills stop water, the trees stop water and their crowns channel it into the sky. Each is a vertical flow. At times, however, yet the flow can stop completely to make an ey, an island. The flow parts, flows round it, and then closes again. As you can see from the silt island in the grove of firs climbing a post-glacial riverbed in the Nicola Valley below, the reformed flow (below the eye) has been transformed into a separate flow, in this case a long stream of red-leaved Oregon grape climbing the slope, against the flow. By stopping the downward flow, as well as the eastward facing flow (to our left) being watered by the slope to the right, it transforms the energies of the slope to turn powerful Earth-based forces into life.
Does all that sound complicated? Don’t worry. The point is that a flow can be transformed into a new form of energy. The pines, junipers, firs and Oregon grape above are one example. Another is the image below. In this silt bluff a few miles West and near the mouth of the river, the transformations of watering into flow and flow into new watering has cut so deeply into the fine old post-glacial lake bottom that it has transformed them into hoodoos instead of rounded hills.
In this new state, they take on the energy of the transformation, and are called transformers. Because they are points of balance and transformation in the landscape, and centre it in human perception by drawing the mind to them out of its own patterns, they transform the mind and its intention. If they didn’t you wouldn’t see them. The extraordinary one above (and below) has two heads, illustrating well how such transformers stand between worlds and look into them both.
That is traditionally the work of a shaman, but you don’t need a shaman to make those transformations. They come from living in the world. Still sound complex? Na, it’s not. Don’t fret. The point here is that if you wish to change your attitude to the earth, make a point in it and then look out from it. Over time, and not that much, you will begin to use it quite differently. You may, for instance, stop farming and grow food in ways that use the transformations of the Earth. You may, however, perform more elaborate transformations. It makes sense. An eye, or an island, is really an egg, and a yolk. It nourishes. Here’s one example of just how powerful eye energy is, and just how much it matters. Please have a look at an extraordinary eye at the mouth of the Nicola…
That’s a powerful transformer figure, Kojoti and the monsters he has smashed up to allow salmon to flow up the river. Ah, but this is not 10,000 years ago. This is today, so have a look from a different angle:
Look at that grin! He really loves junked cars. Don’t think, though, that this is a contrast of worlds. It is one world. You can be in it all at once, in its waterings and flows, its stops and transformations, or you can place your attention in one eye, Kojoti, and view that totality from his perspective, or in another eye, those cars, and view the totality from a perspective of machinery, junk, recycling and all the other energies that leak out of cars all the time, dead or alive. The point is simple enough: the stopping energy in the Earth, that transforms flows into alternate states, is moveable, as is your attention. In other words, from the point of view of experience they are the same. You are the eyeland. You have the capacity to transform the Earth just by looking. What you see need not be a dead story. Like the hole in the bluff below that catches your eye, the Earth invites you to see right through it, because you are designed to do so.
Will you accept your power of transformation, or will you, believing the Earth is dead and separate from you, fulfill that deadly choice? Will you accept your eye?
Or be someone else’s? If the latter, then the power of transformation is theirs. Violence follows, as the image of the violence of that act.