What a marvelous time I've had in Stonehaven. A huge note of gratitude to Rev. Sarah Smith for letting me stay in her manse while I've been here. It's been a sanctuary of quiet for writing. I've completed drafts of 2 out of the 3 essays I hoped to write during this month! I'm feeling quite good about myself, but I haven't re-read them, so perhaps they're crap. Not for me to decide right now.
I don't think about myself as much of an intellectual. I used to have an idea, back in high school, that I was smart. I didn't realize my high school accomplishments were a combination of easy charm, fastidiousness, and the modest bar of a public high school. I got to Yale and met people who, unlike me, were actually intellectuals. I took a sociology class my first semester and people around me used the adjective "Durkheimian" with ease. I was overmatched. Theory and philosophy still fascinate me, but land with me like a foreign language. My brain doesn't feel very comfortable in theory-land--it always wants to move toward the practical. As in, "what does this way of thinking mean for the way I--and all of us human beings--make our lives together?"
Because I'm always thinking about "what difference does this idea make for life," putting my body in a different place--and particularly in a different cultural setting--is revelatory. It allows me to see the way the people in that place have put together their lives--how ideas (theory) fit together to form a different expression of reality. How the people there relate to the land, relate to each other, preserve history and memory, articulate public and private values, embrace spirituality, greet strangers, and talk and think about themselves and the world. When I am able to see the way the world "fits" together in a novel cultural setting, it helps me recalibrate my own sense of being-in-the-world. Strangeness is clarifying.
Just living in Stonehaven, with the ability to walk around, look at things, talk to people, has been wonderfully nourishing in this sense. Stonehaven is a beautiful small town. Geographically, and in terms of its natural features, it's hard to find a place more lovely. The two rivers (Cowie and Carron) roll down from the hills into the harbor, and along each of them, there are quiet paths to walk, the birds are electric in the treetops, and other wildlife abounds. The sound of water falling over stone is everywhere, and I'm not sure there's a more therapeutic sound in the whole world. Except, perhaps, the sound of ocean waves, which you also have in Stonehaven, as the North Sea falls rhythmically on the rocky shoreline. As you leave town, either north or south, you rise to the crest of a hill and so you can literally look down on the place where you live, as a bird would. This "seeing" our home in a wider perspective, I think, is also deeply humanizing--it makes you feel small, but paradoxically, like you also belong to a larger whole.
The people of Stonehaven seemed a little shell-shocked by a long, cold, wet winter, and I'm quite sure that the timing of my visit in full-on spring buoyed my opinion of the town. But winters can also be conducive to a sense of human closeness, as we find ways to create intimate home spaces. I did see so many people out and about, enjoying the sun. On a bright Saturday, even though the temperature barely topped 60, children and adults were wading into the ocean--and they seemed happy about it. There were 3 different touch rugby games being played by adult men on the fields of the local school. Everywhere I went, people were walking, biking, getting outside.
The Art Deco facade of Stonehaven's famous open air pool, opened in 1934:
Food is also crucial to any sense of being-in-the-world. Food in Stonehaven (and Scotland in general) isn't bad at all. Great Britain is not known for its food, but they've certainly adopted local and sustainable foods (and packaging) far more earnestly than we have in the United States. The produce I had was fresh and delicious. I told you about the delights at the Seafood Bothy in a previous post and I didn't even get to try the famous fish and chips at The Bay. And if you're ever looking for food with a bit more flavor, every town has a decent Indian restaurant. Indian food has saved British cuisine, in general. I did get ice cream at Aunt Betty's which was as good as any I've ever had.
I do wonder about northeast Scotland's sustainability, given that so much of its recent prosperity comes from fossil fuel in the North Sea. Scotland is a much more energy-conscious country than the US, but I experienced a felt tension over the role of fossil fuels in the growth of Aberdeenshire. Wealth is intoxicating--once people have it, they like it, and they want more of it, no matter where it comes from. When will these gas wells stop being viable?
Scotland has dealt with these kinds of questions before. It was a great beneficiary and engine (pun intended) of the 18th century expansion of the British Empire. It does seem like there was a popular movement in Scotland to address the inequalities, the suffering, and the injustices that the Empire brought into being--a belief that not all wealth is justified, and that any wealth gained should be broadly shared. There's at least an unembarrassed history of Scottish socialism and "Labour" is a real political party.
And religion? Well, I've still got hope for the Church of Scotland. Stonehaven's congregation is small but solid. They are good stewards of their buildings. They do need more people to drive ministries, and, like so many congregations, it would be great if those people were a bit younger than the wonderful people worshiping there now. The idea of a "parish" is still in place in Scotland--that the church is responsible for the whole community. A pastor serving today should be out and about in the community all of the time, meeting people, helping people organize for good, tending to needs.
I told Beth that the one thing Stonehaven is still missing is a bookstore. If it were me, I might organize the church to create a used bookstore--find a good commercial space downtown, curate a decent collection of new and used books. It could become a gathering place for people to meet over words, in book groups and writer's circles. If we ever leave the United States, it may be to start a Scottish bookstore.
I'll carry so many memories of Stonehaven with me. But none stronger than this: walking along a quiet lane, the cathedral of tree canopy arching overhead, and just off the path, the sound--the sound!--of water falling on stone.
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