"Why is rising above a good thing? ...Why is lowly or base not a compliment? Why do we want to "raise our vibration"? Is a piccolo better than a bassoon?
"Perhaps what we need is not the transcendence of materiality, but to embrace it more fully."
~ Charles Eisenstein, "The Way Up is Down"
"Email is a wonderful thing for people whose role in life is to be on top of things. But not for me; my role is to be on the bottom of things."
~ Donald Knuth
"Believing in a higher power" has never worked out well for me. Turns out I prefer to keep company with the myriad beings (plural) on the lower levels, where it's much less crowded and more introvert-friendly. I'm a cave dweller through and through.
Not that I object to "higher" powers. If that's your thing, have at it. But as an animist, I believe in lower powers, and they frequently get an unfair bad rap.
As a polytheistic monastic, the majority of my interests probably qualify as niche. But it often seems my troglodyte tendencies occupy a niche all their own. So in the spirit of "letting the freak flag fly," I'll write more about my lifelong abiding love of dark enclosed spaces and all things subterranean. Surely there are more of us out there?
"Cave dweller," in this case, is more of an archetype and figure of speech than a literal statement. (Though let it be known that I'd be elated if I had regular private access to a bona fide cave).
In my idiosyncratic lexicon, "cave dweller" is a way of saying I fit the goth stereotype. I'm most comfortable, creative, and content in dark or dimly lit enclosed spaces. But that's been true since my youth, long before I discovered goth culture and started wearing black and purple all the time, so there's more to my affinity for subterranea than the goth thing. However you slice it, my happy place as a writer is in my cozy and dimly lit studio "cave," with the black velvet curtains drawn closed. Keep that harsh sunlight out, please.
In "Of Hearth and Shadow: A Norse Polytheist and a Fledgling Animist Sanctuary," my essay for Polytheistic Monasticism: Voices From Pagan Cloisters, I wrote that I
"bond… viscerally and emotionally with certain buildings — especially small homes with basements — on levels I struggle to articulate."
I also speculated that if I'd been able to examine this affinity for basements, caves, dark closets, tents, and blanket forts through an animist framework of monastic discernment at the time, I might have interpreted the yearning for "enclosure" as one of the hints of my calling to monasticism.
Caves often lend themselves readily to meditation and are associated with monasticism in other religions, so there's that, but I also believe that there's something specifically animist about the way I'm instinctively drawn to enclosed spaces. I think about what I've learned from Skaði about the predator-prey relationship, for example; on the prey side especially, it's not too surprising that there'd be a draw toward enclosed shelters. Gotta protect the soft underbellies.
Caves can keep humans cool in summer and warm in winter, and as extreme heat conditions grow more common with global climate change, perhaps we'll see more interest in subterranean homes.
In any case, I have a canopy bed that's completely enclosed by dark curtains — something I coveted since childhood, but did not actually acquire until middle age — and I sleep like a baby in that thing, any time of day or night. As long as I can shut out most of the light, I'm content. Bright sun, heat, and tropical weather, by contrast, leave me irate and lethargic.
Right about the time of year when most people eagerly trot outside to greet the warm summer days with open arms, I start counting down the days until autumn arrives. While others plan beach trips, I park myself in front of the air conditioner and salivate over photos of basement remodels and subterranean hideouts: catacombs, crypts, fogou, erdstalls, and all manner of underground homes.
Honestly, if I could get away with it, I'd hide out in a subterranean living space every summer, for the entire summer, and only go out when it's unavoidable. Once the temperature drops and the cloud cover moves back in, though, I perk right up and happily go back outside. Good thing I live in Portland, OR, where the overcast/rainy/cool weather suits my tastes beautifully most of the year.
Dark enclosed spaces also lend themselves nicely to slowcore practices such as taking catnaps throughout the day. Like the völva Hyndla, I spend a lot of time napping in my "hermit cave." I believe naps can act as magical portals to wisdom from the imaginal realm, and I also think napping deserves much more respect even for more prosaic reasons. But these are topics for another time.
Another benefit of dark enclosed spaces is their affordances for better regulation of sensory input, which can provide a sense of safety. I get overwhelmed easily. Slower, quieter, and more subdued surroundings suit me best.
According to psychotherapist Dr. Elaine Aron, these inclinations are likely attributable to a neurological/biological trait called "Sensory Processing Sensitivity" that applies to about 20% of the population. Interestingly, most of my closest friends also share this trait. But not all. As a sun-loving friend once said to me as she walked in my front door: "It's really gothic in here, Danica."
Indeed. Just the way I like it.
Cover art: Trish Deneen.
