I agree exactly with this, but doesn't that make an important point? We have no Story, for us (without an indigenous heritage, blooded or adopted), that has this in-dwelling perspective.
Only if you think science succeeds in its paradoxical pursuit of the god’s eye view. If it doesn’t, then, as much as that vain pursuit will hold it back, it still has to dwell and participate in the world, for lack of any other alternative. Science tries to build, but it still dwells, because the aspirations of the building perspective contradict each other. It can offer a story–impoverished, yes, but does Perfect war against Good? David Mech lived with wolves for years at a time; he aspires to a building perspective, but he still had to dwell. When Scott London asked David Abram, “Do we have any equivalents of medicine people in Western culture, people who perform a similar function?” Abram suggested, “We do have some distant equivalents, such as field biologists who are able to enter into a close rapport with the other species that they are studying.”
In my own case, I found some seeds worth cultivating. What science could tell me about the eastern coyote filled in more than I could observe myself, and helped me appreciate our kinship; learning the geology of the Appalachians has given me new dimensions of story to explore in the landscape. I wouldn’t call it an oral tradition in its own right, but it has helped me in the past.
No matter how much I work, I know certain books and texts just do not open for me as Story in that sense, as able to transport me somewhere Now. I usually describe these kinds of things as academic or some such. But perhaps I more honestly mean, 'academic for me - cold and stale for me - no journey anywhere, For ME'.
Excellent point. I see the building perspective as really just offering self-delusions. You always dwell, whether you see it that way or not. Aspire to the gods’ eye view, and you only fool yourself. Like Quinn’s point in Ishmael that the fruit from the tree of knowledge doesn’t actually give you the godlike power to tell good from evil, just the conceit. So as much as science hinders itself by trying to pursue that gods’ eye view, it still emerges from dwelling, because it can’t emerge from anything else. Scientists, geologists, biologists, all dwell, all have perspectives shaped by their participation in the world, and all have become skilled in their own ways. I think we lost a great deal in pursuit of this paradox of building, but we couldn’t lose everything. So long as we exist, we dwell, so we could never lose everything, no matter how hard we tried.
So, in the grand project of resuscitating our humanity, we’ll find shards scattered everywhere, and each of us will, thanks to our own skills and the ways we have dwelled, have a keener perception of one area or another. We’ll each find different shards in different places, even some in the most unlikely places.
The danger of that geology text may lie in that, on its surface, you will learn the relationship of a conquering people to their un-honored place. The potential of that geology text may lie in that, you can ignore that surface layer, and go on your own journey, right now, deep into the earth.
Oh, indeed, but we see such perils and potentials all around. Even an indigenous story, even Prechtel’s story, pairs peril and potential: the potential you’ve already pointed to, yes, but also the peril of thinking we understand it better than we actually do. None of us here have ever dwelled in the traditional Mayan land, participating in the traditional Mayan life, the way traditional Mayans do–not even, in many crucial ways, Martin Prechtel.
We have no oral tradition of our own, no dwelling perspective of our own, developed from the relationship of our family and our land, so the shards we collect offer great potential, but always twinned with peril: either the peril of appropriation, and the conceit that we understand more than we do, or the peril of the conqueror’s perspective.
I think we can navigate between that Scylla and that Charybdis with care, though. If we always bring it back to our relationship with family and land, if we look to these for inspiration rather than the answers in and of themselves, tracks to follow rather than the Other we pursue itself, then I think we can hope to avoid those perils, and put together the potential they offer to rewild.
Or maybe a better way to put it, that story is as real as the tracks we leave in the earth?
So I see it from this dwelling perspective I’ve begun to look through.
There is no extra-reality mentalplane type-of-thing, in which they exist.
If I had to group all the major epiphanies that have rocked my brain in the past year under one heading, it would say, “The radical implications of actually rejecting dualism.”
Story-jamming!
Holy crap … you blew my mind, Willem. YES! Unbelievably fantastic! And I envy you viciously right now that you’ve found enough people to start getting such a thing off the ground. I’ve heard comparisons that drew parallels between story games and jazz before, but bringing it all together like you have really hits home.
Have you heard of the Rolemonkeys? I don’t think they think of themselves consciously in such terms, but they have a name for their band, and even release recordings of their sessions.
I cannot believe you didn't post a link here to Bone White, Blood Red
That would’ve made sense, wouldn’t it? Well, you’ve corrected my oversight. 
