The Menil Collection in Houston has recently concluded an exhibit entitled, “Mapa Wiya” (Your Map’s Not Needed). I was lucky enough to see the exhibit with my family over the holidays. It reminded me of my 40-year affinity for Australian Aboriginal art, but also my deep, visceral response to this form of imagery. The Westerners who first encountered the Aboriginal people of Australia considered them primitive, and even sub-human. Until fairly recent times, they usually took away their children and placed them in special schools to “civilize” them. Of course, the same things happened to native peoples here in America until well into the 20th century.
The name of the Menil exhibit, which I will translate as “We don’t need your freakin’ maps,” presents the question of “just who were the uncivilized people in that encounter?” Aboriginal people considered western maps to be laughably primitive because they only described geography at the most basic levels. Everyone knew there was a river here, a mountain, there, etc. But what about also knowing where one’s ancestors dwelled, where animal spirits roamed, or where the deep vibrations of the earth, its time, and unseen spaces emanated? This knowledge and wisdom were nowhere to be found on western maps. To the Aboriginal people, those maps were as useless and pointless as a single straight line drawn on an empty sheet of paper. They were unwanted and childish. So the original people of Australia told the makers, “Mapa Wiya.”
I do not wish to demean the empirical workmanship of a good map. It’s useful, beautiful, and can even be life-saving under some circumstances. However, we live in a time when people can no longer find their way without detailed maps, most often digital these days. I fear we are losing our human ability to be way-finders. Is there no longer wonder in wandering? If we are never “lost,” can we truly know how to find? Is our FOBL (“fear of being lost”) disrupting the capability to form the soulful human skills which can help us see, rather than just look, and to discover, rather than to simply arrive?
I recently had a chance encounter with a lady who was passing through Austin for the day while making her way from Florida to her home in Los Angeles. Even though this was a long way to travel, she had chosen to drive for no apparent reason except to “have a look around.” While she might not have realized it, she was on a “walkabout.” Her path appeared meandering to some, as empty of the obvious signposts as the West Texas desert she would soon enter. I was envious! My heart longs for this type of creative wandering. When it was time to say goodbye, what came out of my mouth surprised us both: I blurted out, “May you find what you are NOT looking for.” I don’t know where this came from — or maybe I do? Perhaps these sentiments emerged from a place not on any map, but meant to guide us nevertheless. I don’t know if it was she, or me, who needed this guidance more. Those words emerging from my mouth were like the “clunk” felt and heard after falling out of bed from a deep sleep.
After some reflection, what is the meaning of that “clunk”? It is this: May we not be always going in directions we believe to be our destination, but also allow enough space and time to way-find ourselves to places we never knew, but perhaps need to be.
