On the reciprocity of gratitude

Today is the first full day of autumn 2021. I’m working hard at adjusting my attitude from being resentful of having autumn chores to do to one of gratitude for the wonderful weather and beautiful locale that can benefit from my efforts. This is part of a change that comes, not from practicing what I preach, but from practicing what I read. In this case, Robin Wall Kimmerer’s profound writings about reciprocity.

autumn beauty, a gift of the earth

Photo by J. Harrington

How can we reciprocate the gifts of the Earth?

1. We must recognize ourselves as only one member of the great democracy of species and understand that we, like every other successful organism, must play by the rules that govern ecosystem function. The laws of thermodynamics have not been suspended on our behalf. Unlimited growth is not possible. In a finite world, we cannot relentlessly take without replenishment. 
2. Long before the descent of humans, a solar economy of plants created a living world from inanimate materials, constantly regenerating life through networks of reciprocity. Industrial economies are hell-bent on reversing that process, converting the gloriously animate to cold dead products with stunning efficiency. Our paths on the Earth are shaped by what we love the most. We participate in economies that appear to love profits for a few members of one species more than a good green world for all. We have a choice to invest our love otherwise. We must align our economies with ecological principles and human integrity.
3. Ecological restoration is an act of reciprocity and the Earth asks us to turn our gifts to healing the damage we have done. The Earth-shaping prowess that we thoughtlessly use to sicken the land can be used to heal it. It is not just the land that is broken, but our relationship with land. We can be medicine for the Earth, partners in renewal.
4. Reciprocity is rooted in the understanding that we are not alone, that the Earth is populated by non-human persons, wise and inventive beings deserving of our respect. We tolerate governance that grants legal personhood and free speech to corporations but denies that respect to voiceless salamanders and sugar maples. The Earth asks that we be their voice. Indigenous-led movements across the world are conferring legal personhood on rivers and mountains. The Declaration of the Rights of Mother Earth has been presented to the United Nations. I think the Earth is asking for our vote.

Gratitude is our first, but not our only gift. We are storytellers, music makers, devisers of ingenious machines, healers, scientists, and lovers of an Earth who asks that we give our own unique gifts on behalf of life.

 Let us live in a way that Earth will be grateful for us.

Earlier this morning I read some local suggestions on how to help prep wildlife-friendly fall gardens. After reading the first couple of sentences, I new it was written by someone with whom I have much in common.

There are two kinds of Minnesotans: people whose favorite season is autumn, and people who are wrong.

 As soon as I’ve finished posting this, I’ll go start the tractor and mow/mulch the back yard for the penultimate(?) time this year. Once more in mid to later October might do it. If so, I’ll be grateful.

Worms

By Carl Dennis

Aren't you glad at least that the earthworms  

Under the grass are ignorant, as they eat the earth,  

Of the good they confer on us, that their silence  

Isn't a silent reproof for our bad manners,  

Our never casting earthward a crumb of thanks  

For their keeping the soil from packing so tight  

That no root, however determined, could pierce it?  

Imagine if they suspected how much we owe them,  

How the weight of our debt would crush us  

Even if they enjoyed keeping the grass alive,  

The garden flowers and vegetables, the clover,  

And wanted nothing that we could give them,  

Not even the merest nod of acknowledgment.  

A debt to angels would be easy in comparison,  

Bright, weightless creatures of cloud, who serve  

An even brighter and lighter master.  

Lucky for us they don't know what they're doing,  

These puny anonymous creatures of dark and damp  

Who eat simply to live, with no more sense of mission  

Than nature feels in providing for our survival.  

Better save our gratitude for a friend  

Who gives us more than we can give in return  

And never hints she's waiting for reciprocity.  

"If I had nickel, I'd give it to you,"  

The lover says, who, having nothing available  

In the solid, indicative world, scrapes up  

A coin or two in the world of the subjunctive.  

"A nickel with a hole drilled in the top  

So you can fasten it to your bracelet, a charm  

To protect you against your enemies."  

For his sake, she'd wear it, not for her own,  

So he might believe she's safe as she saunters  

Home across the field at night, the moon above her,  

Below her the loam, compressed by the soles of her loafers,  

And the tunneling earthworms, tireless, silent,  

As they persist, oblivious, in their service.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.