!on reciprocity

Lichens are pretty amazing. I have been reading Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. It is another that is demanding a lot from me. Not in the same sense of the Karen Horner book. It is devastating nonetheless.

Horner makes me think about who I am in conflict to my mental maladies. Kimmerer, on the other hand, makes me confront the conflicts outside of me. She makes me consider my roots and my relationship with the environment. I am far from alien when it comes to this topic. Howver, she approaches these relationships as if they were with other equals. I like that. There are definitely voices within me that revolt at this thought. "Equals? with us HUMANS?" Afterall, humans are the top of the foodchain. We are number 1. That is what I have been told all my life. I knew this was wrong decades ago. But I am not consciously thinking about it. It is a silent realization that changes nothing in me and my relation to the outside world.

Kimmerer reminds us that we are not above them. Right about now, I have a sobering reminder that topsoil and arable land is all that stands between us and extinction. Sure we may have food reserves for a while. But they run out. She heavily emphasizes the act of giftgiving and reciprocity, both in todays world and in her Potawatomi culture. This is what I have been missing. A few weeks ago I wrote about the backlash surrounding me refusing a gift from a family member. I did not know then that it was not the gift giving that I was rallying against. I am still learning what it is that I found repugnant. Perhaps it is the ceaseless march towards more and more consuming. Or maybe the definition of gifts that we walk around with. I ought to have taken that opportunity to actually talk about what bothered me.

I am submerged in a consumerist gift mindset. While my family abroad still held onto a symbolic, reciprocal definition. I wanted to reject my definition. But because I no longer spoke the same language as they did. I rejected theirs too. In my hurry to become minimalistic, I risked throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Kimmerer invites me to revisit my definitions and explanations. Where are my roots? What language do I speak? Where is my attention put towards? For how long do I remain an immigrant before I start treating the land that I have been living in for 20 years as my own? What does the land around me expect? I am reminded of french philosopher and activist Simone Weil's fear of not exploring answers enough and stopping at definitions too early. I have not done even that. These definitions were handed to me by someone else. And for decades I have carried them as ineffable.

This book pushed me to learn more about the native plants and species around me. They are also our neighbours and perhaps more beneficial than the folks nextdoors. It also forced me to ask questions on where my attention should be. What can I do locally to do my reciprocal responsibilities. Last year I had started a butterfly garden, this year I will add more native plants to it.