Changing Lives: Tides of Change
I lead Urbana University, an Ohio institution founded in 1850 by Swedenborgian faithful. I am delighted to contribute some reflections for Changing Lives– it’s what we do at Urbana University.
As I write, I’m at 39,000 feet, eastbound from a pre-fall semester vacation on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. I’d like to share a changing-lives moment from a walk over the mud flats at Nesqually National Wildlife Refuge near Olympia. The area relies on tides to enrich and enliven this section of the Puget Sound. I had walked along Henderson Bay with longtime friends earlier, just as the low tide yielded to the initial incoming flush. Arriving at the Refuge we saw the boardwalk reaching nearly two miles across vast flats of red mud, a rather stark, lifeless, and empty landscape, or so it seemed.
Closer inspection revealed more. Great blue herons stood expectantly along residual pools and shallow channels, bobbing and tilting, watching for prey and alert for predators. Gulls swooped, laughed, and shrilled, perhaps rejoicing at some news not yet revealed to me. Geese stood on the higher ground, patient for something they anticipated. Ducks paddled calmly across ponds. A lone immature bald eagle staffed a dead “ghost tree,” watching the flats for a sign of a promised meal. I knew the tide would soon cover these flats. For goodness sakes, I’m a biological scientist; the cycles and rhythms of nature speak to me from textbooks and decades of observation. What I did not know was how the up-close and intimate experience of watching the mud flat transform would change my thinking of life and living.
I was not prepared for the pace and magnitude of change. The water did not simply rise; it attacked, rushed, forced, and flooded. Rivulets sought purchase across countless points of entry; tiny flows rose to freshets, and streams grew to rivers as the water rushed to inundate the flats. Bubbles and gurgles gave way to torrents.
A barren landscape no more, the flats celebrated—herons fished happily; gulls dived and pecked; ducks flew to exploit now extensive water cover; and the eagle took flight, scouring the water below for his next meal. This magnificent cycle of flooding and renewal occurs twice daily, both imposing and enabling change— life-sustaining change. Had we stayed another hour we would have witnessed the brief period of tranquility when tidal push and pull are in equilibrium, the kind of balance we occasionally enjoy as life settles briefly for us from time to time. We can never assess the true condition of life by what we see at any one point in time. Conditions will change as surely as the tide. Push and pull will sometimes align, but often the forces of our lives are out of balance.
The tidal pulses shape the marshy community. The full basin and empty flats simply exist as interludes between the power and processes at work. Likewise, the constant struggle between push and pull in our own journey shapes our character, beliefs, and relevance. The soft interludes of tranquility and balance do little to mold who we are and what we become. Living, mercifully, is neither mud flat nor full basin. Instead, it’s a more dynamic journey shaped by rewarding, challenging, and fulfilling cycles and patterns.
“Therefore ’brooks of water, fountains, and depths flowing forth in valley and mountain,’ signify such things as belong to the church; ’brooks of water’ signifying the understanding of truth, ‘fountains’ doctrinals from the Word, and ‘depths flowing forth in valley and mountain’ the knowledges of truth and good in the natural and in the spiritual man” (Heavenly Secrets 518.8).
Life at times can seem stark, vast, barren, and lifeless. My trek along the boardwalk demonstrated that life abounds in ways that carve, nourish, renew, and bless. Life does not simply pass; it surges, forces, and floods. Swedenborg’s Writings prompt us to see and understand that nature reveals lessons, metaphors, and patterns that speak to life and living. Just as there are countless forms in nature, Spiritual Experiences explains that states “are numberless in kind and, in fact, far beyond the grasp of a person on earth, and that in their sequence the same kinds of states do not recur in such a way that they are entirely like previous states, but are of incredible variety” (Emanuel Swedenborg, Spiritual Experiences 2402). The tidal flats and estuarine basin opened my eyes to look more closely and thoughtfully to the ebbs and flows around me. What may appear barren, daunting, and hopelessly vast may hold infinite promise for positive change and renewal.
Often along life’s journey, when I have paused to reflect deeply upon the ways of nature, important and meaningful insights come to me. Although raised as a Methodist and generally navigating life’s way as a continuing Methodist, these three-plus years as Urbana University’s President have begun to open my eyes to at least some critical Swedenborgian tenets. I have come to the realization that I have long viewed life and nature as crucially interdependent, rich with metaphorical and symbolic connectivity. I see great wisdom in nature, and as a professional forester and soil scientist, I often read a language invisible to others. I saw the tidal basin wisdom as clearly as though I had read it from a book. I will never forget the absolute power of its relevance to life and living. I will heed its lessons from this day forward, taking care not to judge or act on the basis of what appears at glance to be the essence of a situation, but which is merely a single point within a dynamic pattern. Only within the context of the pattern can a time in life and living be understood and appreciated. I’m only now beginning to comprehend my own journey.
Steve Jones is President of Urbana University.
