An Indigo Sanctuary

My fascination with plants and trees is a long standing one of shared silences and a craving for belonging and rootedness. But my fascination with insects is really a fascination with little worlds on a scale and dimension utterly unlike the one I inhabit. How would they experience the fuzz under a leaf or the sensation of sliding down a flower petal - landing in a dusting of pollen? Do they feel joy as they buzz around in the warm sunshine? How does it feel to be able to jump several times your body length? Do butterflies remember their larval lives? And what are their compound eyes REALLY seeing?

Having a good loupe to access this world is like having a magical eye and having an overactive imagination and a lively facilitator dishing out facts and questions in equal measure make for a delightful, mind-expanding stroll where one often ends up with more questions than one began with!

A 'woodworm' on an undulating landscape of human skin

I feel like this way of noticing and observing but not necessarily having answers left room in myself to make novel connections. The internal experience was one of going back to childhood places of curiosity. We constantly default to preconceived notions and stereotypes as that is the least expenditure of energy and it was liberating to hold on to a space of “wow, that is so intriguing...but why? We don't really know...but wow, that is so intriguing!” It reinforces how humans are really quite incidental to the proceedings and I very much appreciated how Shyamal repeatedly pointed out how we are socialised to think about nature in human-centric ways.

Growing up in Bangalore city in the late 90s, I have not had much primary experience with insects (except maybe ants that I've observed going about their busy business) and it was rather fun to make up for lost time. I've also been consciously observing that making these mental connections with non-human beings helps me with my mental health. I am not exactly sure how that works, but I am content to just be with that knowledge right now.

The 'bird's nest' fungus

A most endearing moment for me was when we had spotted a spider and Mrinal, with a mixture of fear and excitement on his face eagerly said "Can I please hold the spider? Because I'm really scared of them and don’t want to be anymore!" :)

It was challenging focussing on this fast-moving wee-vil fellow!

I also enjoyed the contrasting experience of being part of a group and having solo time and tried to be as open as possible to both experiences. At times, I felt like the size of the group was a bit much and wished there were fewer folks so I could have more direct, deeper interactions. I tend to follow my body cues so when I sensed some resistance in myself to sit in on one of the teatimes, I picked up my art materials and sat out on the verandah of the glass house with a strong intention to paint what called out to me. About fifteen metres away, someone was waving gently. And within a few minutes, it was just me and the lotus plant, swaying gently in the breeze with the promise of a drizzle to come. My mind relaxed and my body settled as my eyes traced out the shapes held up by water. At times when I find the company of humans exhausting, the silence and inexplicable beauty of these beings grounds me.

The gentle sway!

After about twenty minutes, as everybody else trooped back onto the verandah, my social self was back, and eager to engage. Uma and Mrinal started playing one of those games with concealed rules, where it is completely infuriating to be on the outside but one is also so simultaneously driven to "get inside" that laughter erupts every few seconds as Lindt chocolate is proposed to appease the forest spirit that had previously rejected Cadbury! Ranging from a 19 year old to a 56 year old, a motley group of humans engaged in play - that most basic of connections. From Poornima who brought in 'pomegranate pickle' to Arunima, who never really quite understood why she needed to like appams (or anchovies!), it was a laugh riot I am going to remember for a long time!

‘If I can’t see you, you can’t see me!’

As I moved, the bug would move too, always careful to be on the other side of the stem - a most sensible approach to being photographed by nosy busybodies and a strategy I would highly recommend. This is exactly what I feel like (and end up) doing when someone wants to “take a pic” of me!

For me, the essence of this sanctuary space is the lush layering of all sorts of beings into a caring community. It is ironic that I'm trying to say this with words but it is a place of gentle healing where one is invited to leave behind one's words.

My last visit here was eight years ago, just before my descent into chronic illness and although I had my doubts about whether I was going to make it through the three days of activity this time, I was surprised to find myself moving past survival and even daring to step into otherwise forbidden, deliciously cold streams of awe and wonder.

Very grateful to everyone who made this possible and looking forward to my next visit!