My Sit Spot is in my backyard, or rather, the green space that has existed for generations in which I boldly refer to as my land. There is great depth of life in this ecosystem, which deepens my humility with every minute spent observing. This space holds seemingly infinitesimal shades of green – from long grass, to ferns, to blackberry shrubs that pop up in the most unexpected places, to magnificent trees that seem to reach to the stars. The sounds are like unique songs never to be heard in quite the same way again. The same birds making different sounds depending on the placement of the sun in the sky, branches waving hello, insects busily buzzing. Never quiet in the sense of being soundless but serene; I suspect it is the way all living beings long to feel, the fulfilment of feeling interconnected with the community that gives us life. Listening to the Earth is allowing me to hear a story I should have heard long ago – it is a surprisingly educational space. Emerging from my experiences are two themes, namely perspective and remembering.
Both perspective and remembering are deeply woven together. Since starting the MACAL program, I have been reflecting on how my worldview is shaped by my position within a colonial, capitalistic society. That, of course, shapes how I see land and the environment around me. Capitalism is based on growth and extraction (Gram-Hanssen et al., 2021). Living within this reality does not provide the foundation for a reciprocal relationship. As Luckasavitch (2021) aptly states: “We are of the Earth. We are formed with and by the land, waters, plants, animals”. To engage actively in reciprocity with our environment, we must step away from unfettered growth as a measure of progress. As a consumption based worldview does not allow for a respectful relationship with the provider of materials, the Earth (Kimmerer, 2014). How we see our immediate environment alters our entire worldview, if we are able to see ourselves as one small part of a complex system, we gain the desire to nurture and protect that system.
It is now clearly evident that the lens through which I see climate change and my immediate surroundings is shaped by my relationship with the Earth. Obviously. Intentionally examining my perspective and the history by which it has been shaped reminds me that my perspective, though significant to me, is just one of many; just as my existence, though important to me, is no more valuable than that of any other living being. While sitting in this Sit Spot, I wonder about the perspective of the trees. I wonder what they would say, something like: “Welcome to this shared home, we’ve lived here for hundreds of years. We have supported many generations of plants and animals. We helped your ancestors and, don’t worry, we plan to be here for future generations long after you have gone”. I imagine they may find the idea of being a part of my backyard rather amusing.
This space is where children play – not just my own but the children of the bunnies, the deer, the birds, offshoots of the plants, the insects, the microorganisms. Sometimes we see only ourselves, only our own children. This myopic view is at odds with meaningful transformation. Justice is equity for all of the children. Allowing some people to disproportionately suffer, allows the rest of us to forget. Dayaneni’s words have been preoccupying my thoughts for the last three days: “the best thing we can hope for is the equitable distribution of the suffering […] What makes it suffering is it’s deeply inequitable navigation of the consequences of climate disruption […] as we navigate it together, it changes what it feels like” (Young, 2021, 19:38). Shifting perspective away from seeing ourselves in the center changes the idea of what solutions to climate change may look like. It allows us to remember that no one is independent of our surroundings, even if we don’t yet fully realize how we belong.
In her article, The Re-Emergence of Story and Belonging, Luckasavitch (2021) discusses how our sense of belonging is tied to the stories of our Earth and how those stories connect us to each other, our past and future generations, and the world around us. In her description of her family home, home to five generations of her family, she paints a vivid picture of the interconnected generations through stories that live long after our time on Earth. She tells the story of herself through her ancestors and speaks of her ability to heal by returning home to learn through history, remembering nature and learning the natural world. Luckasavitch (2021) illustrates the importance of entering into good relationships with others and the land, developing relationships based on reciprocity and respect, and surmising about the impact such relationships could have on a grand scale.
The sense of belonging that Luckasavitch (2021) highlights by linking all living things, including ancestors and future generations, through story is powerful. Many of us live existences far removed from the Earth and each other; disconnected from that which gives us physical and spiritual life. It’s a vicious cycle, constantly searching for better through consumption in an attempt to find meaning and connection – further removing us from our relationship with the land. Remembering our connection to our physical world as well as past and future generations, may not only provide sustainable solutions to the climate crisis but fulfillment we did not realize we were lacking.
Taking the time and intention to sit still and listen to our Earth is a powerful reminder of my own, and everyone’s, existence. It is profound. It is humbling. Of course we are deeply interconnected with our surroundings as our existence is not possible alone. It is hard to imagine forgetting such a sense of awareness in the tasks of daily life. Yet, I am struck by how readily it returns with the slightest opportunity. It’s as though the disconnect with the land many of us are sold by capitalism is so at odds with nature, it takes the smallest effort to make it falter. Once our perspective is shifted, we can start to remember our place and listen to the wisdom around us. I am surprised by how deeply these moments at my Sit Spot speak to me, if I could bottle this feeling and share it, I would.
This is my hope for climate communication. This feeling, to me and possibly many with similar histories, stems from gratitude that is easily overlooked unless you take time to notice. We all come from the Earth, we desire to be connected even if we do not realize it yet because many of us are not looking. When Kimmerer (2014) points out the Earth is a gift requiring gratitude and reciprocity, it is so powerful, especially to those of us searching for solutions and connection. I wonder how many peoplefail to ever consider the connection and dependence on our Earth at all. For some in this society, food magically shows up on shelves and temperatures are decided by the turn of a dial. For many of us, climate communication may start with recognition of basic fundamentals. In order to show gratitude, you must first realize you have something for which to be grateful.
In a society so focused on individualism and success, it is so liberating to acknowledge that I am no more or less important than my surroundings. As Kimmerer (2014) describes: “gratitude propels the recognition of the personhood of all beings and challenges the fallacy of human exceptionalism—the idea that we are somehow better, more deserving of the wealth and services of the Earth than other species”. I will end with the untainted perspective of my son, Henry, who already knows at five years old what I am still learning at…more than five: “Leave the world better than how we found it? That’s not possible…Oh wait, yes it is, we must be more like the trees”.
References
Gram-Hanssen, I., Schafenacker, N., & Bentz, J. (2021). Decolonizing transformations through ‘right relations.’ Sustainability Science, 17(2), 673–685. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11625-021-00960-9
Kimmerer, R. W. (2014). Returning the gift. Center for Humans and Nature. https://humansandnature.org/earth-ethic-robin-kimmerer/
Luckasavitch, C. (2021). The re-emergence of story and belonging. Humans & Nature. https://humansandnature.org/the-re-emergence-of-story-and-belonging/
Young, A. (Host). (2021, May 7). Gopal Dayaneni on the exploitation of soil and story (No. 232). [Audio podcast episode]. For The Wild. https://forthewild.world/podcast-transcripts/gopal-dayaneni-on-the-exploitation-of-soil-and-story-232