Sublime

some other-than-normal but beautiful practices for bringing reciprocity to the trees among us and the forests they create.

He introduces himself to the seller, explains his need, just as he would in a meadow, asking permission of the sweetgrass. He cannot pay for it, not because he doesn’t have the money, but because it cannot be bought or sold and still retain its essence for ceremony.

What happens to one happens to us all. We can starve together or feast together. All flourishing is mutual.

The squash creates the ethical habitat for coexistence and mutual flourishing. I envision a time when the intellectual monoculture of science will be replaced with a polyculture of complementary knowledges. And so all may be fed.

Our oldest teaching stories remind us that failure to show gratitude dishonors the gift and brings serious consequences.

We set ourselves up as arbiters of what is good when often our standards of goodness are driven by narrow interests, by what we want.

The joining of our own unique arts to those of the collective whole is the deepest—perhaps the only—hope for the continuation of a wild earth.