Connecting with the Earth
The following is part of a talk I gave at a Northeast USA Regional Workshop:
When I was asked to be on the care of the environment team at this workshop, my first question was, “What does that role involve?” I was told that it is to think about recycling, composting, handkerchiefs, and soap. I immediately started to think about using the role to do something more than that. How could we have more impact?
My first thought was to look at workshop consumption, energy use, and waste. I pictured a balance sheet. Then I wondered what that would feel like and if it would actually move us forward. Where would that leave us? Would it actually be helpful? What conclusions might people come to that were not helpful? I decided this approach was not a great idea.
I needed another idea—and I began to push the edge of my thinking. I’ve been deeply impacted by Robin Wall Kimmerer, who wrote Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants and is an enrolled member of the Potawatomi Nation. She asks us to consider, what do we offer the Earth? Our white U.S. culture keeps us focused on what we take from the Earth, and we miss part of our work and part of the equation.
I decided to focus on our relationship and connection to the land we’re on and the plant and animal beings who live here.
Where is our sense of wonder, awe, reverence, joy, connection, and gratitude? As RCers, we know that our attention matters. Our attention for each other, our attention for our people—it matters. We are less sure that our attention for the Earth matters or makes any difference.
We need to follow the thinking and perspectives of Native people as we do this work because we have to start from a different place in our hearts and in our minds. As a white person, I do not know this way of thinking and this perspective. I was not taught this.
For me, going to a place of reverence and humility, and love of the Earth, feels tender, scary, fragile, and private. It’s hard for me to share it with others.
We can start by being in a quiet place. We can close our eyes, look outside—whatever works to help us find that place. Then we can notice the Earth that we’re on and the other beings here. Notice the trees, the lake, the sun, the wind, the piece of the sky we can see, the squirrels, the deer, the chipmunks, the birds. Notice all of it. Really notice. Notice what the wind feels like on our skin and think about our place in all of this.
How often do we walk through our day disconnected from the Earth beneath our feet? What would we have to discharge to never take another step disconnected from the Earth? We can notice any feelings that come up—grief, longing, disconnection, futility, goodness, thankfulness, feeling protected and cared for, reverence, pleasure, joy, awe, gratitude—no matter how fragile or tender any of this feels. We can allow any feelings of fierceness to arise. We can trust that we do not yet understand how much our love and connection to the Earth matters and how much difference it makes.
Can we walk through a weekend connected to a sense of love, respect, and humility in our relationship with the Earth and the beings here? Can we build and honor our relationship to the Earth? Can we support each other to stay connected to the Earth?
South Burlington, Vermont, USA
(Present Time 198, January 2020)