Weird, right?
A bit on the journey back to normal
Happy New Year! I hope you had a safe and restful (at least as restful as possible) holiday season.
Before we step into this first piece of 2026, I want to again invite you to join me and some others in a free reflection, intention, connection call on either Tuesday, January 6th or Thursday, January 8th. You can learn more about these calls and some of what we’ll explore by checking out my last post. I hope to see you there!
On this full moon post 🌕
Messages we can’t hear
We spent the last days of 2025 staying at a sweet AirBnB on Camano Island overlooking the Saratoga Passage. Which meant we were looking out at Whidbey Island (the lights of Langley - one of our favorite places just south of us). Which meant we had a perfect view of the sunset—and Mt. Rainier given that she was ‘out’ as we say in the area.
On our first night, my wife and I perched ourselves on the bluff and watched the other-than-human people do their things. Seagulls frolicked in the water, lightly jumping up and then diving into the shallows. They seemed to be fishing. Or they could have been washing themselves. Or playing. Ducks swam about in little clusters, ducking (lol) under for a few seconds. Another bird, one we were never able to identify, did the same. Always as a flock, disappearing under the water for what seemed like minutes at a time. We’d see a seal, and then another, surfacing for air, swimming along the coast.
As we noticed what appeared to be a sea lion (it was much larger than the seals we’d seen), two eagles arrived on the scene. Swooping out of the trees that surrounded us, both made their way to the large disturbance in the water.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, all of the birds took flight. At first flying toward the place that the eagles were circling. Where the sea lion was. And then . . . they dispersed—flying who-knows-where.
A new quiet replaced what had been the occasional squawking of the gulls or the ‘ay-ay-ay’ sound the unidentified birds would make when they flew from one patch of water to the next. Suddenly, all there was was the sound of the water. Small—very small—waves lapping.
One of the eagles flew north. The second circled for another minute or two and then it left.
And we? Well, we were left . . . bewildered.
We both sat there wondering: what happened? What message had been sent? Surely something. And while we had some theories, none were likely close to the message that made its way across the water that day. That every animal we were able to see had received1. Well, except us.
After the sun had set, we walked back to the cozy cabin to get ready to head out to dinner. As we walked, I found myself thinking, “what is it to be in tune with what happened on that little stretch of the beach?”
What’s normal is weird
It’s possible that there’s a better question, actually. Something like: “how is it that I’m not in tune with what happened on that beach?”
Thing is, this isn’t a me thing. It’s an us thing. You see, in the course of human history, it turns out, it is very unusual to not be in tune with what happened on that beach.
For the majority of human existence—pre-industrialization for sure, pre-agriculture even—humans lived not with a sense of control, but with a sense of cooperation. We lived in a collaborative state and in a state of knowing deep in our bones that we were not in control. Something larger—what we may call ‘nature’ today—was. Something that could easily devour us.
And so we were in tune. We had to be. We had to understand the messages coming toward us, or we would be dust.
Another way of framing this was as David Abram does in his beautiful book The Spell of the Sensuous, “…[T]oday you read these printed words as tribal hunters once read the tracks of deer, moose, and bear printed in the soil of the forest floor.”
In other words, they read the world.
Somewhere along the way, we got disconnected from this kind of knowing. The attunement. There’s a lot out there about this, from the excellent Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow, to Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael series, to The Emerald’s episode ‘Animism is Normative Consciousness’. All of which I’d recommend.
What makes it unusual is that fact that our culture, the only one we’ve ever really known; the one that has shaped us into the disconnection, not the attunement, represents two-percent or less of human history.
This means, of course, that most of our ancestors would know the answer to my initial question—“what is it to be in tune with what happened on that little stretch of the beach?”
I’ve been sitting with this little factoid recently, and I have to say, I feel it’s reshaping me.
Our disconnection is, if you think about it, pretty weird.
And wouldn’t it be nice to return to something that’s so . . . normal? So human?
This is a part of my journey as we head into 2026—to find my way toward a more direct relationship with the world. To remember my way home. I’m sure this is a life-long process. Our conditioning is, after all, quite thorough.
One of the ways I’m doing this (along side my wife, as well as some friends) is to take Josh Schrei’s (of The Emerald Podcast) Mythic Body course. Another way is to keep finding my way into these bewildering moments.
I’m curious if this resonates with you? What might this kind of finding your way back to normal look like? I’d love to hear your thoughts about it!
Some light reading
The day we left the AirBnB, we went down to the bluff for one last visit with this beautiful landscape. There were the gulls. The ducks. The unidentified birds. Oh! The herons! How had I failed to mention the herons? It was all lovely.
And then, further out, something was breaking the surface. Not one thing. Not two. What seemed to be a large-ish group of…what? Well, a little looking through the binoculars, a quick web search provided the answer. It turns out it was a raft2 of sea lions.
They were making their way north along the coast.
This time, the gulls continued to squawk. The waves continued to lap.
And we left, feeling like we’d been given one last gift. One last opportunity to be in tune.
Probably the best beach reading there is.
Wishing you a peaceful start to 2026. I look forward to seeing where this year takes us.
🙏🏻
Greg
Happenings
I’ve got a couple of things happening this month for the (Seattle area) men:
Happy Hour in Green Lake: An informal opportunity for guys to connect, get to know one another, and learn more about the men’s circles. This one is free (save the purchase of a beverage). Learn more by checking out this MeetUp page; all the details are there. If you want to come, but don’t want to join MeetUp, filling out this RSVP form would be very helpful!
January 27th In-Person Drop-In Men’s Circle: There are a few more spots left for this month’s circle. These have been going really well and a great group of guys has been coming. If you are—or know!—a guy who might find value in this kind of space, I’d love to see you there. Details and registration can be found here.
Hell, for all we know, the fish got it too!
Yup, apparently a group of sea lions found in the water is called a raft . Kind of cool.