Wallows
Soften a place for future seeds
What is the instinct that brings the bison to stop in here, to sigh in release and drop her heavy body to the ground? Is it the way the sun meets her back or is it a surrender to tiredness? Is it a loneliness that the Earth can soothe that brings her body down, now shoulder dipping, then ribcage pushing breath out, huff, then the hips rolling down into the stable bed of earth? Being received completely she communicates with the Earth about where she has come, what she has carried in her muscled body, as she presses each part of herself into the welcoming rough dust.
The great plains of North American hold the imprints of bison’s bodies, even now in relationship to the estimated 30-60 million bison that roamed there before being decimated by the colonizing settlements. To groom and cool down, bison roll on the ground, dust bathing, making wallows, shallow imprints in the earth bigger than the already large bison’s body, some 10 feet in diameter. These depressions left in the earth are reused by other bison, repeatedly returned to by these large warm bodies, possibly for a hundred years. Rolling and pressing into the earth the heat of their bodies along with the carried seeds and insects from their fur. These depressions hold water, making a miniature wetland of fertile nutrient rich soil. It is believed that in pre-colonized North America there would have been five or more of these bison wallows per acre in the prairies (A Badkhen, Emergence Magazine) making them a defining contributor to the ecosystem.
To imagine what this interaction of warm body pressing into earth has catalyzed is incredible. The spread of wildflowers and plants linked to the range of the bison linked to the gentle pooling of water in concave body shaped beds.
It pleases me to think about wallows. I think of cupped hands to hold something fragile, of shallow baskets, of making a blanket nest for the cat, of holding things temporarily. This is a shallow holding place, where something can rest but also be free to move, a gathering of warmth and moisture and gentle pressure. Wallows also make me think of Indigenous grinding stones, these circular depressions into stone telling a story of the work of sustenance, of processing tough materials so that it can be used as food or medicine. But first it must be ground against the solid earth.
Sometimes things are tough to digest or cling to us and we need the solidity of the Earth to process it. And in doing so, perhaps we soften and bring new blooming to that place.
Reflect on wallowing and how humans now use that term as something shameful. “Don’t wallow! Get over it!” As though rolling around in our emotions is wasteful or selfish. “How can I get over this?” I hear again and again, as though our experiences are things we should bury and cover over and stand over. Now I wonder if we can allow important things to leave impressions in the field of our life, places where we shook and rolled and processed and changed the ground we walk on. These may be places where a friend later can take themselves to and be held in the impression left from our experience. Getting over is different than leaving behind. In a wallow we create a place to leave residue behind, with trust that it will become a part of an interconnected eco-system.
When there is so much to process, we need to drop down and let things sink in. We need to give ourselves time. This is not an indulgence but a way to move forward into new life.
Soften the present moment by arriving in it fully. Know that you are carrying with you seeds for what will bloom next, so small perhaps you do not even feel them there with you. Rest for a moment right where you are.
The bisons’ wallows became the more healthy fertile soil, strengthened and enriched by the amiable compression of rubbing to clean off. The wallows bloomed later in flowers and held moisture for years to come. Perhaps, our wallowing in the embrace of the stable earth can also lead to a more abundant bloom?
At 5Rhythms dance practice the music pushes hard into me, a vibration of compression and release. All my stories of the week seem to be streaming off of me, in sweat and sighing outbreaths, and I pound the earth with my feet, all my weight giving it over to this place I can press and push and find the stable holding I want. Maybe I growl, maybe I cry. I imagine I am wallowing like a bison on a wide plain with all the time in the world, curling a shoulder into the earth, digging out space for myself to shake and rub it all off. After the wallow dance I rise up, things sifted off of me, released, while the ground under my feet now feels seeded and softened for a future richness of life. I am willing to walk differently on this ground tilled by my dance.
How can you create a shallow holding place where your emotions or stories can press into the earth? Let your processing leave an impression. Invoke the wallow and its alchemy of softening a place for seeds and water and new life.
I invite you to explore this Nature Communion that paid subscribers are getting this week!
Nature Communion
It is time to seek out impressions left in the earth by life that came before. Many animals leave shallow beds where they rested for a night or for a season. Near the ocean you will find shell imprints in rocks now pools for tinier creatures to shelter in. You might find rubbed places on tree trunks or flattened grasses.
Let yourself wander with an eye to these impressions of life. Feel them as the imprint of a body. Notice your tendency to label some as intrusive or damage, and some as natural or an unquestioned part of the landscape. Just be curious about how you label things.
Perhaps let yourself be drawn to one of these fingerprints left in the landscape. How do you feel in its presence? Is it a holding place for something? Does it feel welcoming? Mysterious? Tender? Tell this place about an impression left in your life. Ask it how to hold it now.
Alternately, you can play with making impressions in the earth. Perhaps a muddy place can allow you to leave a footprint behind temporarily or a soft bank can receive your finger as you make a sign or sigil, you were here.Please practice with temporary impressions, something that will fade or be washed away soon. But notice what is it like to feel the Earth make room for your transitory mark. What do you leave behind when you press into the ground?