Living in the city or living in nature

It’s a fearsome thing, this contradiction between the urban space and the outer wonders of nature. I grew up in nature. I live now in the city.

In childhood, I lived amongst the wildness and the seasons, alive with the connection of all that flies through the air, sears through the river and walks the meadow. And that space has gone now, the village I lived in is now part of a growing town. From my childhood when there were 650 people living there, all of whom I could name – to now, when it is a village only in name and has lost its strong sense of community.

Here now I live in Liverpool, out on the waterfront, but still surrounded by the growth of a city. It means something – I know the culture, the enjoyment, and the constant choice is something remarkable. But there is still the yearning for space and quiet. Not the quiet of silence, for the wilderness is a noisy place, alive with bird-call from first light and the noises of creatures. But there is something natural and untroubled about that space.

When we live close together as humans we learn ways to get in each other’s faces, to increase the tension of the urban space. How do we find the calm of the wild in the pace of the city? Perhaps it can come from a journey of inner space, a searching through patience and generosity to find something that works in a busy space. And when we find it we can yield to the space that we find ourselves in, whatever its origins.

That is the challenge of our growth, of our turning.