I imagine that it would be simpler to build the kind of haven that ships come to for trade. For that, you just need to find a natural harbor and build a town around it. Yes, you may have to build barrier walls to keep the waves out or occasionally dredge the straits into the harbor. But a seaport style haven creates itself around the function it serves. Services and supplies for ships and crew and methods for trading goods and information spring up in direct relationship to the kind of ships that typically show up.
The kind of haven that I'm thinking about is a bit trickier to build. There are some things that can be done to the physical spaces to encourage both the movement of people (and therefore ideas) in and out of a space while still providing retreats for the family. But, for the most part, when I think about how to start building a haven, I am struck by the central haven paradox.
To build a haven, you must first be havened within yourself. To put it another way, I needed to do a certain amount of mental spring cleaning before I could even think about this idea. And I'm not just talking regular spring cleaning, either. I mean, I had to dig the dirt out of corners that had been varnished over and discover what I put in those boxes that had been in the attic for years. But that, in and of itself, is the kind of thing that I could only do because I was already havened. In other words, without some mental equivalent of a natural harbor, I am not sure how anyone else could start this process.
So, all of this means that the first question of Havenology is really this: how do I find a natural harbor and what does that harbor allow me to do? Or maybe it is: what does a natural harbor really look like? Or perhaps some people really do manage to "grow where they're planted" and create havens everywhere they go? Hmmm... ponderables....
Sunday, January 18, 2009
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