The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it. If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity — then we will treat each other with greater respect.
-David Suzuki
Daniel Quinn, the author of the book ISHMAEL, writes,
There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with people. Given a story to enact that puts them in accord with the world, they will live in accord with the world. But given a story to enact that puts them at odds with the world, as yours does, they will live at odds with the world. Given a story to enact in which they are the lords of the world, they will ACT like lords of the world. And, given a story to enact in which the world is a foe to be conquered, they will conquer it like a foe, and one day, inevitably, their foe will lie bleeding to death at their feet.
I think Mr. Quinn sheds light on a lot of interesting things about our culture that we don’t see on the surface, or at least things that we don’t let ourselves acknowledge much of the time. You might say that the story we are in right now is one that sees the earth as a resource – a thing to be used – complete with a hierarchy of power with the richest of humans at the very top. You might say, as Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee does, that “We are the inheritors of this culture {story} that has banished the relationship to the sacred from the Earth.”
Yet even if we know all there is to know about how stuck we are in this story, we are still stuck. Today, April 22, is Earth Day in the United States. To be fair, I’m glad the current story has an Earth Day. But I want to be in a new story that doesn’t celebrate Earth Day– because the characters in the new one won’t need a reminder to live as one with the whole of the earth. How do we shift our thinking into an awareness that breaks free from our conditioning and our fear of doing things in a radically different way? How do we tell a new story?
Much of the time, I have no idea. Or I have ideas but too much fear to act on them in full. Or I come up with some kind of plan to do things differently, and then get distracted by the everydayness of life. Or I forget that every failure has the potential to be a foundation for success, eventually, if I would only see them as stepping stones instead of black holes.
But maybe, when we recognize that we are in a story that doesn’t end well, we CAN take action to change it. It won’t happen overnight, even though we want it to. It will surely take planning and doing things that make us feel uncomfortable and stretch our boundaries. It will likely be frustrating since many people around us will want to remain totally invested in the old story and unable or unwilling to listen to the new one that is finding its voice through us.
Once you learn to discern the voice of Mother Culture humming in the background, telling her story over and over again to the people of your culture, you’ll never stop being conscious of it. Wherever you go for the rest of your life, you’ll be tempted to say to the people around you, “how can you listen to this stuff and not recognize it for what it is?”
Can two stories live side by side if some people choose not to recognize the illusion of the broken one they have been in for so long? Maybe they can for a while. I am inclined to think that the old story has to fade away for the new one to continue and thrive. For the earth to regain wholeness and vibrancy, we need to see with new eyes and remember the sacred in ourselves that IS the earth. Then maybe we can get unstuck and into a new story – one that sets people up to live in accord with the world.
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What you just read is an excerpt of an essay from Woodland Manitou: To Be on Earth, and that particular essay was written quite a few years ago now. Climate change has continued to accelerate, and there are many folks who say we are past the point of no return, that if we don’t change our collective ways at a massive scale and rapid rate, life as we know it will be coming to an end sooner than later as communities are displaced by sea level rise or drought. I read an article the other day that said national borders will likely become largely irrelevant if we stay on this course due to the shear volume of climate refugees increases: people who need to move because their land-base no longer supports life. It can sound really hopeless when you dig in to the research and scientific projections.
But as I’ve written before, and I will surely write again, we don’t have to give in to hopelessness and despair. We can practice active hope, and take action even if we are skeptical whether or not our actions will make any difference at all. In the most recent issue of Orion Magazine, there is an article about a theater company called “Phantom Limb” that tells stories of climate crisis, specifically stories of Antarctica, Methuselah, the world’s oldest tree and most recently, Fukushima after the 2011 tsunami and nuclear accident. Artistic director Jessica Grindstaff writes,
The small things you do actually do make a difference. Billions of people doing small things adds up to a big difference. We all have to figure out how to step out of this totally overwhelmed PTSD state that we’re in politically and environmentally and wake up and do some small thing. Now. And every day, until you go to sleep.
Even when a story-line feels unchangeable, we can still act. We can still help a neighbor. We can still grow some vegetables. We can still look for ways to use fewer resources. We can still look toward the sun rising in the east as spring blossoms bloom or butterflies visit (despite the odds) and feel deeply in our bones the turning of the season. We can still remember and tap into the parts of ourselves that are nature. We can wake up and do some small thing. And then another, and then another, until waking up is no longer an option.
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Earth Day, 2019. What small thing might you do?
Below are some ideas – from simple to more involved – to get the next chapter in a new story started:
– Spend time outside regularly, in gratitude for what the earth provides. Practice leave no trace. Tread lightly. Cultivate a love of the planet in those you care for.
– Avoid using chemical weed killers and welcome dandelions, bees and butterflies into your yard.
– Invest in a few reusable canvas bags for shopping. Skip the plastic produce bags, too. (tip: keep a bag in your car if you drive)
– Start a compost pile. Plant a garden. Frequent the farmer’s market.
– Carpool, ride your bike to work, or telecommute if possible.
– Meet your neighbors. Share things with them. Ask them for help. Chances are, they’re nice and value similar things.
– Plant one native berry-bearing shrub or tree to provide food for birds.
– Buy local, even if it’s not convenient and costs more.
– Join a CSA (community supported agriculture)
– Limit showers to 5 minutes.
– Turn off the car when waiting to pick up the kids or when at the bank drive through.
– Organize at a local level to address environmental issues. This is where you have the best chances of making an impact. Clean up a local river/lake. Attend town meetings. Run for office. Write letters to the editor.
– Make 25% more of your purchases from providers that commit to fair trade and/or sustainable practices.
– Commit to buying nothing one month. Maybe longer. Maybe as a part of a group.
– When replacing appliances, install energy efficient models. Or ditch the dryer for a clothesline.
– Invest in solar electricity for your home. Or subscribe to a solar garden, like the one in Minneapolis. Use less electricity in general.
– Give up plastic. For good.
– Get rid of the lawn. Plant veggies there instead, and then give ’em away
– Downsize to a smaller home. Maybe even a really small home. Or build an Earthship.
Heidi Barr | Author 