In January of 2013, I flew out to attend my first full session of the Orphan Wisdom school, founded by Stephen Jenkinson and his wife Nathalie. The term “orphan” is an odd one to combine with wisdom, a juxtaposition that Stephen is fond of replicating according to the 9 months I’ve known him. An orphan after all, is not someone who has no parents. An orphan is one who does not know their parents. On the surface, it’s hard to remember exactly what transpired during those seven days. I gathered in the Ger (a traditional Mongolian yurt) each day on Stephen’s ice-covered land, hugging the Bonnechere River, joined by other scholars. We discussed the ancient English poem Beowulf. We excavated the etymology of words as delicately as rare pottery from the old world. We ate meat and vegetables raised on their own land, offered with a story of how they came to grow, and ultimately, taken. And on the final evening, near the stroke of midnight, we conjured a collective experience so potent, so real, that I continually question whether it happened at all. A piece of that time became this short film The Meaning of Death.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 00:01:26 +0000
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