One of the amazing things that I have discovered down in the big freezer are podcasts.  I never really listened to any at home but they are amazing, so many interesting stories, interviews and ideas just thrown out there for you to listen to.  So to add interest to my treadmill time I have been listening to a random podcast and a few weeks ago it was an interview with novelist Lilly Brett.  She used the following phrase in regards to the subway system in New York; she said she loved the subway because she was “squashed against humanity”.  I love that imagery so much that I had to jump off the treadmill and scribble a note so I didn’t forget it.

I kept looking at that little bit of scribble “…squashed against humanity” for a couple of weeks.  I was trying to figure out why this particular image resonated with me so well, it took awhile to figure out.  The phrase translates to so many different situations, but the subway or public transport context is obvious.  Cities are full of people, all sorts of people with different ideas, energies and places to be.  The energy of cities is obvious and in your face, it is literally squashed up against you, unavoidably.  Now I know, roll your eyes if you must,  what am I talking about ‘the energy’, but it is true if you think about it everything has a certain resonance in the world.  The fast pace of the city gives out energy, I love it every-one in a hurry with places to be and people to see, different fashions, protesters in Fed square or outside parliament, cafes packed full.  Contrast with the deep breath you take when you drive out of the city and arrive at a vineyard, golf course, beach or just a favourite picnic spot and feel relaxed…not so much energy whirling around you.  As a nurse I have felt the lack of ‘energy’ in a patients room and I know they have passed away before I even check.

In Antarctica we are not squashed against humanity in the literal sense, but I still feel the presence of people, that energy that we create and spill out were-ever we go.

Antarctica is a pristine environment, unlike a city it has that ancient slow energy that oozes out of every glacier, mountain and lake.  Mother Earth is forcefully present down here, she is the dominating force that humans have not even come close to subduing.  It is a constant battle to maintain even a small presence.

 

Overlayed across the top of that ancient energy is the energy of animals that inhabit the place, it is almost tangible.  The energies co-exist in harmony down here, the balance is complementary, it doesn’t feel like a battle for control or domination.  Everything cedes to Mother Nature and in return she generally gives what is needed to survive.

When I went to Auster rookery you could feel the energy of the penguins, the slow shuffle as they rotated from inside the middle of the pack to outside the pack and back again.  The occasional argument or discussion.  The way the group create puffs of steam if some-one gets out of step and releases some heat from the middle of the huddle.  The mischievous penguins that were attracted to us and wanted to suss out these strange red beings that had arrived.

In contrast to Auster, the Becherveise Islands are suspended in time because the energy is missing and it is palpable.  Like a graveyard, the energy is gone almost creating a vaccum.  The Adelie penguins are not yet returned and the nesting sites stand empty waiting, soon it will be a babble of life again but for the moment it feels like the deserted home it is.

A couple of days ago I went out on the sea ice, it was peaceful, quiet, calm and isolated.  Looking back at the station from the sea ice, I could see our little community huddled on the edge of the water, overshadowed by the glaciers and mountains.  Our little rookery where our human energy is concentrated, all our small victories and joys, tears and home sick moments, squabbles and encouragements create our little ‘squash’ moments.  So even in Antarctica we are all still squashed up against humanity, living within our community and experiencing life in all its rawness.

I am feeling privileged again to be given the experience of living and working in such an isolated place, and have a reminder courtesy of Lilly Brett to press in and enjoy squashing up against humanity.