Braiding Sweetgrass: Reciprocity with Nature

Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants is a profoundly moving blend of personal narrative, scientific inquiry, and Indigenous storytelling. The book explores the interconnections between humans and the natural world, presenting a holistic vision of ecological balance, reciprocity, and gratitude. Kimmerer, a botanist and a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, brings a unique dual perspective to her work, blending scientific understanding with Indigenous traditions.

Key Themes and Insights
 

1. Reciprocity with Nature
 

At the heart of Braiding Sweetgrass is the idea of reciprocity--a mutual exchange of care and respect between humans and the Earth. Kimmerer illustrates this concept through the teachings of the "Honorable Harvest," a traditional Indigenous practice that governs the ethical taking of resources. These teachings emphasize principles such as taking only what is needed, using everything taken, and giving thanks in return. By living in alignment with these principles, she argues, humans can foster sustainable relationships with the environment.
 

2. Indigenous Knowledge and Scientific Inquiry
 

The book bridges two often disparate worldviews: Indigenous knowledge, which is rooted in spiritual and relational connections to the land, and Western science, which focuses on observation and empirical evidence. Kimmerer critiques the limitations of Western science when it disregards the wisdom embedded in traditional ecological knowledge. She calls for a synthesis of these perspectives, demonstrating how science can be enriched by Indigenous ways of knowing.
 

3. The Language of Plants
 

Kimmerer presents plants as teachers and storytellers. She explains how Indigenous peoples view plants not as resources to exploit but as living beings with their own gifts to share. The quintessential sweetgrass, for example, is a sacred plant in Potawatomi culture, symbolizing healing, gratitude, and connection. Kimmerer weaves its story throughout the book, using it as a metaphor for reciprocity and care.
 

Structure and Key Chapters
 

The book is divided into five thematic sections, each mirroring one of the braids in sweetgrass: Planting, Tending, Picking, Braiding, and Burning. These sections guide the reader through cycles of growth, care, and renewal, both in nature and in human relationships.
 

1. Planting
 

This section explores Kimmerer's early experiences with nature and her awakening to the dual perspectives of science and Indigenous traditions. She reflects on her childhood love of plants and her journey into the field of botany, noting how her academic training initially distanced her from the relational understanding of nature central to her Potawatomi heritage.
 

2. Tending
 

Here, Kimmerer delves into the act of caregiving for the land. She discusses practices like gardening, which are deeply intertwined with the cycles of nature and the responsibility of stewardship. Through the story of pecans, Kimmerer illustrates how Indigenous peoples cultivated landscapes in ways that sustained both human and ecological communities.
 

3. Picking
 

In this section, Kimmerer shares lessons on gratitude and the ethics of harvesting. She recounts how Indigenous teachings emphasize the need to approach nature with humility and reverence. Her story of gathering wild leeks highlights the importance of balance: taking only what is needed and ensuring the plant's ability to regenerate for future generations.
 

4. Braiding
 

This pivotal section ties together the threads of the book, emphasizing the interconnectedness of humans and the natural world. Kimmerer reflects on the power of storytelling and ceremony in fostering a sense of belonging and respect for the Earth. She contrasts the capitalist mindset of extraction and commodification with Indigenous practices of reciprocity and care.
 

5. Burning
 

The final section focuses on renewal and transformation. Kimmerer discusses controlled burns as a traditional ecological practice that maintains the health of certain ecosystems. This metaphor extends to human lives, suggesting that embracing change and letting go of harmful practices can lead to regeneration and growth.
 

Lessons and Takeaways
 

Gratitude as a Way of Life
 

One of the book's central messages is the importance of gratitude. Kimmerer describes rituals like the "Thanksgiving Address," a Haudenosaunee (also known as the Iroquois Confederacy or Six Nations--Mohawk, Oneida, Cayuga, Onondaga, Seneca, and Tuscarora) tradition that expresses appreciation for all elements of the natural world. Gratitude, she argues, fosters a mindset of abundance and responsibility, countering the destructive tendencies of consumerism.
 

The Role of Stories
 

Stories play a vital role in Braiding Sweetgrass. They carry cultural knowledge, teach moral lessons, and cultivate empathy. Kimmerer uses storytelling to bridge the gap between Indigenous wisdom and modern readers, showing how narratives can inspire a deeper connection to nature.
 

Healing Through Connection
 

Kimmerer underscores the idea that healing the planet is inseparable from healing human relationships with the Earth. She advocates for a shift from a worldview of domination to one of partnership, where humans see themselves as part of, rather than separate from, the natural world.
 

Relevance and Impact
 

Braiding Sweetgrass resonates with readers across diverse backgrounds, offering both practical advice and spiritual inspiration. It challenges the dominant narratives of environmental exploitation and invites individuals to reconsider their role in ecological systems. The book has become a cornerstone of environmental literature, celebrated for its poetic prose and profound insights.
 

By blending science with Indigenous wisdom, Kimmerer provides a compelling roadmap for sustainable living. Her call for reciprocity, gratitude, and humility offers hope in an era of ecological crisis, reminding readers that restoring balance with the Earth is both an individual and collective responsibility.
 

Conclusion
 

Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass is more than a book; it is an invitation to rethink how we live and relate to the world around us. Through her poetic storytelling and unique perspective, Kimmerer inspires readers to cultivate a deeper sense of respect and reciprocity with nature. Whether one approaches it as a work of environmental philosophy, a spiritual guide, or a celebration of Indigenous knowledge, Braiding Sweetgrass is a transformative text that encourages harmony, gratitude, and stewardship in the face of pressing ecological challenges. Read a sample of Braiding Sweetgrass (paid link).

World Wilderness Congress Focuses on Indigenous Knowledge

"Humanity stands at a crossroads and must come together to realize dramatically different and supportive relationships with one another, the Earth, and all life on the planet, if we are to surmount cascading ecological and social crises now underway."

That was the message of Chief Arvol Looking Horse, the spiritual leader of the Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota peoples, who on Sunday welcomed hundreds of attendees to the 12th World Wilderness Congress convening this week in the Black Hills, or He Sapa in the Lakota language. Though these gatherings, dedicated to assessing and often resetting global conservation work, date back to the 1970s, this is the first such congress being convened by a tribal authority. The agenda is dedicated heavily to centering Indigenous perspectives in the global struggle to protect wild lands and waters.

Indigenous peoples articulate alternative environmental perspectives and relationships to the natural world. Indigenous mythologies and oral traditions express a non-anthropocentric environmental ethic. Indigenous groups offer ancient tried-and-tested knowledge and wisdom based on their own locally developed practices of resource use. And, as Native peoples themselves have insisted for centuries, they often understand and exhibit a holistic, interconnected and interdependent relationship to particular landscapes and all of the life forms found there. Despite making up a tiny fraction of the world's population, Indigenous peoples hold ancestral rights to some 65 percent of the planet. This poignant fact conveys the enormous role that Native peoples play not only as environmental stewards, but as political actors on the global stage.

All over the world, Native peoples are engaged in battles with hostile corporations and governments that claim the right to set aside small reserves for Native people, and then to seize the rest of their traditional territory. They are confronting the destructive practices of industry and leading the charge against climate change while defending the rivers, forests and food systems that we all depend on. At the same time, they are blocking governments from eroding basic rights and freedoms and turning to the courts of the world to remedy 500 years of historical wrongs. Native peoples are putting their lives on the line and fighting back for political autonomy and land rights. And all the while, they are breathing new life into the biocultural heritage that has the potential to sustain the entire human race.

Looking Horse, the 19th Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe and Bundle, is as revered among the original people of this land as the Dalai Lama is by the people of Tibet or the Pope for Catholics around the world.

"We warned that some day you would not be able to control what you had created. And that day is here. Mother Earth is sick and has a fever," Looking Horse told the group assembled from nations, tribes, and communities across the world.

The chills of that "fever"--the accelerating shocks of climate destabilization caused by centuries of colonial extraction, fossil fuel combustion, and ecological destruction--rocked communities around the world in 2023, with 2024 continuing to break heat records. A "State of the Climate" report that drew on the work of nearly 600 scientists pointed to unprecedented levels of greenhouse gasses in the atmosphere as the cause of Earth's overheating. Records were similarly broken for ocean heat, sea-ice loss, and sea-level rise. In all, industrially-driven global warming exposed nearly 80 percent of the people on the planet to at least 31 days of extreme heat, another study found. This level of heat was virtually impossible if not for the burning of fossil fuels and development-driven deforestation, Climate Central researchers have reminded us.

But organizers and attendees at WILD12 aren't there to haggle over carbon credits or debate the benefits and risks of carbon capture technologies and blue hydrogen, the substance of so many climate gatherings and debates. Instead, The WILD Foundation, through decades of international gatherings, aims to interrupt one driver of climate crisis that gets far less air time than carbon emissions: the global loss of the planet's wild spaces, which for millions of years have served as the planet's lungs and carbon sinks.

Yet even conservation spaces and agendas have offered a shallow understanding of problems and solutions, overlooking the deeper cultural--and thus colonial--roots of ecological collapse. What makes this year's congress so significant is its aim to reformulate the global conservation agenda not only by placing Indigenous leadership at the forefront of conservation action, but more foundationally, by centering Indigenous knowledge and worldviews in understandings of what Western cultures call wilderness.

In other words, the cultural roots of the collapse of our shared biosphere lies not in the make, model, or brand of the tools we use to clearcut forests or fuel plastics production. Rather, it lies in a fundamental misunderstanding that goes all the way to the bottom of Western thought: the hierarchical dualism that imagines the "human" as both separate from and superior to "nature".

Perhaps the most important aspect of Indigenous cosmology is the conception of creation as a living process resulting in a living universe in which a kinship exists between all things. Thus the Mother Earth is a living being, as are the Sun, Stars and the Moon. Hence the Creators are our family, our Grandparents or Parents, and all of their creations are children who are also our relations.

What needs to be understood and challenged, then, is the very basic conceptual groundings of Western culture itself, which gave birth to capitalism as a global economic system for extracting profit both from the bodies of people racialized and gendered as "others" and from land, treated as a dead thing or "resource" to extract from. For it is these philosophical and economic assumptions that--especially from an Indigenous perspective--facilitated colonization and enabled the genocides, slavery, and racial capitalism that followed.

The industrialized West is largely unaware of how Indigenous societies have functioned and the strengths they possess that industrial cultures have lacked. Our notions of progress are based on the idea that high tech means better, and that industrial cultures are somehow more advanced socially. The current state of our threatened environment demands that communication channels be opened for dialogue and engagement with Native environmental ethics. Native people are not only trying to protect water sources, clean up uranium tailings and mount opposition to fossil fuel extraction, they are also continuing their spiritual ways of seeking to celebrate and support all life by means of ceremonies and prayers.

Changing the World

Whether you realize it or not, you are creating your reality all the time. Your reality is the perfect, exact mirror of your thoughts and what you consistently focus upon. Every thought, idea, or image in the mind has form and substance. Everything that we perceive began with a thought. The structure of our universe is thought, mind and consciousness. Consciousness determines the form of our experience. Consciousness is the "theater of perceptual awareness." It is the collective consciousness of humanity that shapes physical reality. We are the universe made conscious to experience itself. We are mind. We live in a universe of mind. From photons to galaxies, life is conscious intelligent energy that can form itself into any pattern or function.
 

Metaphysically, the ultimate nature of existence is that there is but one consciousness which presides over a singular, yet multidimensional, field of energy that it can form into any patterns it desires by the exercise of its thoughts and intentions. And these patterns encompass everything seen and unseen. This consciousness has been referred to as source consciousness, universal consciousness, or cosmic consciousness. Moreover, cosmic consciousness not only creates patterns of energy, it can also perceive and experience them.
 

There is only consciousness, information and the perception of information, and this facilitates the creation and experience of multiple realities. The world that you believe exists outside of you is basically an illusion--it is a purely perceptual experience. Your experiences are real, but the outer world is imaginary. Your reality is only information that was imagined into existence and is essentially just imagery that your consciousness perceives. Perception is an illusory product of consciousness. The world around you is nothing more than a very convincing perceptual illusion.
 

If consciousness creates reality, then change starts within. It starts with the way you observe the outer world from your inner world. You can change the outer world by changing your inner world. The world is your stage. The stage that collective reality plays out on is just there to create a context within which to play out the story of your personal reality. You can create anything you want in life, and it is not limited to what already exists in the collective reality, but it does provide a host of options to select into your life. However, they are all optional--they cannot enter into your experience unless you invite them in with your thoughts. In fact, the collective reality can be a distraction that lures you into focusing on "what is" instead of "what can be."
 

Quantum physics points out that this is a participatory universe in which the power to change reality is literally in our hands at every moment. Modern physics is describing what indigenous shamans have long known. Shamans know that the creative matrix of the universe exists within human consciousness, enabling humans to participate in creation itself. For the shaman, changing reality is not just an ability, but also a duty one must perform so that future generations will inherit a world where they can live in peace, harmony and abundance.
 

Shamans access the creative matrix through techniques of ecstasy such as drumming. Rhythmic drumming is a simple and effective way to induce an ecstatic trance state. Shamanic drumming transports you to the creative matrix within. It is an inward spiritual journey of ecstasy in which you interact with the inner world, thereby influencing the outer world. Ecstatic trance enables you to participate directly in the work of encountering and transforming your inner structure, which mirrors your reality. Structure determines how energy will flow, where it will be directed, and what new forms and structures will be created. Through the transformation of your inner landscapes, you transform the external landscapes. You create new forms, new structures that are not based on hierarchy, estrangement and exploitation. You renew the Sacred Hoop of life on Earth.

Climate-Endangered Tribe Sues Louisiana

By now, you're likely well aware of the climate crisis and its significant dangers to Indigenous communities the world over. The problem is especially magnified on islands and in coastal regions, where sea level rise can wipe away traditional homelands and make climate refugees of those who have been displaced. That's true even right here in the United States, where hundreds of Native communities -- in South Dakota, Alaska, Florida, Hawai'i, Washington, and Louisiana -- face existential threats.
 

And now, the first community to supposedly be moved from harm's way -- the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation -- is facing a new set of problems. Just before the new year, the tribe filed a landmark civil rights complaint with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) against the state of Louisiana. In 2016, HUD granted Louisiana $48 million in aid to resettle the tribe. But, its complaint asserts, Louisiana failed to properly implement the grant and has ethnically and racially discriminated, violated tribal sovereignty, excluded cultural components central to a proper relocation program, and provided poor replacement housing.
 

The Jean Charles Choctaw Nation has resided on the Isle de Jean Charles for five generations, since the ancestors of its citizens escaped the Trail of Tears in the early 1830s amid President Andrew Jackson's Indian Removal Act. Its homelands and burial grounds are located in a region facing perpetual devastation and erosion by storms and sea level rise. Since 1955, the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation has lost over 98 percent of its lands to the encroaching ocean.
 

It's also worth noting that the tribe is located in Terrebonne Parish, a region notorious for oil extraction, high pollution rates, and environmental justice violations. The Parish and over 90 percent of its property are largely controlled by non-local fossil fuel and chemical companies. The infamous "Cancer Alley" is just upstream.
 

By filing its complaint with HUD, the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation is looking to the federal agency to investigate the grant-funded resettlement program, currently run by Louisiana's Office of Community Development (OCD). The tribe hopes HUD will order OCD to respect tribal needs and authority as the program's implementation proceeds. The lawsuit is also significant in that, while the tribe has state recognition from Louisiana, it does not have federal recognition, which would extend access to more grants, disaster assistance, and various legal powers -- including constitutional protections and self-governance recognized by the United States.

Environmental Victory for Alaska Natives

On January 8th, the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the State of Alaska's bid to fast-track the legal process, overrule the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), and gain approval for the Pebble Mine -- slated to extract enormous amounts of copper, gold, and molybdenum from the pristine and sensitive ecosystem known as Bristol Bay. Located in a remote, wild, and generally uninhabited part of Southwest Alaska, Pebble is the largest known undeveloped copper ore body in the world.
 

The populations in the area rely heavily on wild resources for subsistence, harvesting moose, caribou and salmon. Wild resources play an important part in the region's cultural heritage. There are more than 30 Alaskan native tribes in the region that depend on salmon to support their traditional subsistence ways of life, in addition to other inhabitants and tourists in the area. A diverse coalition led by Alaska Natives has consistently fought against the proposed mine for more than two decades. It eventually gained support from the EPA, which ultimately blocked the mine proposal in January 2023 over concerns it would threaten an aquatic ecosystem supporting the world's most prolific sockeye salmon fishery.
 

This decision is significant, particularly considering the current High Court's tendency to support states' rights, limits on regulation -- especially of the environmental variety -- and corporate concerns. Alaska's request, filed in June, was unusual in that it sought to skip lower appeals courts to challenge the EPA's decision on the basis that it violated Alaska's state sovereignty.
 

Under the law, alleged violations of state sovereignty are one of the few categories of cases that grant the Supreme Court original jurisdiction -- meaning a state can bypass the usual state/federal court appeals process and file straight with the High Court. The justices could easily have decided to hear the case and decide in favor of the mining company, which has shown no qualms about engaging in some shady business practices over the years.
 

As the single most productive sockeye salmon fishery in the world, Bristol Bay contains biodiversity and abundant wild fish populations which present a stark contrast to many other fisheries in the Pacific Northwest (and worldwide). All five Eastern Pacific salmon species spawn in Bristol Bay's freshwater tributaries. Most have experienced severe depletion over the last few decades. Sockeye salmon, like all Pacific Salmon, are a keystone species, vital to the health of an entire ecosystem. Of course, salmon also provide a sacred food source for Indigenous communities up and down the West Coast.
 

Kudos to the United Tribes of Bristol Bay, a consortium of Alaska Native tribes fighting to preserve the traditional Yup'ik, Dena'ina, and Alutiiq ways of life in Southwest Alaska, for leading the charge. The Supreme Court's decision confirms all the hard work put in by tribes and allies, including the Save Bristol Bay Coalition. It remains to be seen whether Alaska's conservative leadership will continue with legal challenges at a lower court level -- but, for now, Indigenous People have won a big battle in this decades-long fight to protect their homelands.

Initiation into Shamanism

Shamanic initiation is a rite of passage, connecting the apprentice shaman intimately to Spirit. It is probably the most powerful and least understood of all forms of spiritual awakening. It is not achieved by having mastered a body of knowledge or having completed some long-term training program. Though it may be set in motion by an apprentice's human teachers as part of an ordered training process, authentic initiation can only be conveyed by the spirits themselves. Ultimately, shamanic initiation takes place between the initiate and the spirit world. It is the spirits who choose and make the shaman.
 

The most frequent and most genuine manner of shamanic initiation is that of crisis, often involving psychological and physical suffering. The encounter with illness, suffering, and death not only opens the world of the spirits to the shaman, it also provides an experiential ground for the healing work that the shaman will later be doing. Election can also occur through heredity, signs at birth, a proclivity or gift that is recognized in childhood, through a realization arising in the course of a ceremonial event, or in the experience of a vision quest.
 

Shamanic initiation is typically the final step in becoming a shamanic healer, a process that is facilitated by the aspirant's shamanic teachers as part of a training regimen. However, initiation may also be spontaneous, set in motion by Spirit's intervention into the initiate's life. To be initiated by a helping spirit forever transforms your life. For the uninitiated, this can be problematic to say the least. They may have no clear idea of what is happening to them, and may find themselves overwhelmed by fear of their nonordinary experience. 

The Dismemberment Journey

Initiation into shamanhood often involves the visionary experience of symbolic dismemberment--the experience of being taken apart, devoured, or torn to pieces. In a classic dismemberment journey, the apprentice witnesses their own body being torn apart and perhaps completely destroyed. The apprentice dies a symbolic death and is then restored and brought back to life, whole and empowered. At its deepest level, the dismemberment experience dismantles our old identity. It is a powerful death-and-rebirth process. The experience of being stripped layer by layer, down to bare bones forces us to examine the bare essence of what we truly are.
 

Anthropologist Felicitas Goodman, the modern discoverer of Ecstatic Body Postures, notes that Siberian shamans considered dismemberment to be an essential phase of initiation for healers. Goodman researched and explored ritual body postures as a means to achieve a bodily induced trance experience and discovered that this archetype appears to be universal. In her trance work with Westerners, those who experienced spontaneous dismemberment visions were invariably destined to become various kinds of healers.
 

Completing this restorative rite is precisely the task of the shaman. As Joan Halifax explains in her book Shamanic Voices, "The shaman is a healed healer who has retrieved the broken pieces of his or her body and psyche and, through a personal rite of transformation, has integrated many planes of life experience: the body and the spirit, the ordinary and nonordinary, the individual and the community, nature and supernature, the mythic and the historical, the past, the present and the future." The cure for dismemberment is remembering who we actually are. As Halifax puts it, "To bring back to an original state that which was in primordial times whole and is now broken and dismembered is not only an act of unification, but also a divine remembrance of a time when a complete reality existed."(1)
 

Shamanic initiation functions as a transformer--it causes a radical change in the initiate forever. An initiation marks a transition into a new way of being in the world. It informs us about the mystery of life and death. According to noted shamanic teacher and author Sandra Ingerman, "Initiation is the death, dismembering, and dissolving of old forms, structures, and ways of life. And I have come to understand that true initiation is allowing Spirit to sing into creation the new forms and new creations. Allowing Spirit to sing formlessness into form creates a new evolution of consciousness."(2)
 

Shamanic initiation is complicated, profound and nothing short of life-altering--in the best possible way. While it may not be easy, it will improve your life for the better with patience, trial and error, and the passage of time. If you find yourself in one, all you can do is trust the process, hang on tight, and get ready for a newly awakened life.
 

Global Dismemberment
 

There is so much more to discover and explore about shamanic initiations and the deep spiritual knowledge held in Indigenous cultures. Now that the present world-age during which all human civilization developed is ending, it might be time to pay more attention to the experience of those whose world has already ended: Indigenous peoples. Depending on how you count them, there may be up to three hundred million Indigenous people still on the planet. Most are survivors of colonialism. The genocide of the Indigenous peoples was the beginning of the modern world for Europeans, but the former remain as veritable end of the world experts. Models for restoring our relationship with the earth exist in the cultures of Indigenous peoples, whose values and skills have enabled them to survive centuries of invasion and exploitation.
 

From an Indigenous perspective, the global climate and ecological crisis represents a mass shamanic dismemberment--the experience of being taken apart, devoured, or torn to pieces on a global scale, allowing for a shift of awareness and transformation of collective consciousness. The acceleration of planetary crises can either provoke a planetary awakening and a shift into a regenerative planetary culture based on shamanic wisdom and sustainable principles, or a destruction of human civilization in its current form, and perhaps extinction for our species. We are all responsible, for better or worse.

 

As the global upheaval intensifies, our interest in shamanism represents an attempt to retrieve and include a part of our inner and outer lives that technology and civilization has consistently denied, suppressed, or destroyed since the advent of agriculture. The cultural imprinting of hierarchical, agriculturally based societies leaves the individual outside the realm of personal spiritual experience. Any sense of the Great Mystery is beyond the individual's grasp. In the contemporary world, where our rites of passage for young men mean going to war, in a world where social turmoil and environmental disaster induce fear, anxiety and despair, the way of the shaman, the one who is a master of the initiatic crisis, might well be of great value for all of us.

 

1. Joan Halifax, Shamanic Voices: A Survey of Visionary Narratives (Penguin, 1991), pp. 18-22.
2. Sandra Ingerman. "Messages from Sandra Ingerman." Transmutation News (Mar. 2011): <https://www.sandraingerman.com/transmutation-news/english/english-2011/page/2/>.

Mummified Shaman Discovered in Siberia

An almost perfectly preserved shaman burial site dating back to the 18th century has been discovered in remote Siberia. In only the second-ever archaeological study in the Yakutia area of Siberia, Russian researchers at the Institute for Humanitarian Research and North Indigenous Peoples Problems discovered the mummified remains of a fully-clothed man inside a sarcophagus.
 

Shamans are spiritual leaders among the Yakut, practicing as healers and diviners in their communities. Yakutia, the Yakut homeland, is hugely remote, situated in the far northeast of what is now Russia. When Russia occupied Yakutia in the 17th century, Orthodox Christianity began to influence the folk religion. However, during Soviet rule, shamans and their followers were persecuted. The religion didn't die out, though, and continued to be practiced in secret.
 

The burial lay at a depth of around 2.5 feet, and the sarcophagus was made of wide planks and covered with birch bark. The mummified body of a man was wearing a suit consisting of a caftan, a silk shirt, cuffs and legs. The shaman's legs were of particular interest, as they were covered with fabric that was embroidered with colored threads and a patchwork of leathers from hips to ankles. The shaman also wore a pair of leggings, a caftan, a belt, and was accompanied by a saddle, girth straps with iron buckles, stirrups, two bags and a funeral feast.
 

The shaman and its burial site are in remarkably good condition considering it has been buried for over 200 years. This is a truly unique find, because due to climate change, the preservation of items from archaeological excavations is getting worse every year, and the search for funerary monuments is gradually becoming more difficult due to dynamic changes in the landscape.

An Indigenous Perspective on Climate Change

Greenland, also known as Kallaalit Nunaat by the local Inuit peoples, is the "Ground Zero" of climate change. Its geographic location and expansive ice sheets make it extremely vulnerable to climate change, resulting in disproportionate impacts for those who live there. Greenland's population is extremely dispersed, with a majority being Inuit, who live in communities organized around subsistence hunting. Using dog sleds and boats resembling kayaks, the Inuit hunt seals, walrus, narwhal, polar bears and other Arctic animals.
 

In general, the lifestyle of the Inuit communities paired with the environmental conditions of Greenland create a multi-layered vulnerability to climate change. Rising sea levels increase coastal erosion, while melting ice inhibits travel, hunting and other subsistence activities. The mixture of snow and thinner ice makes traditional travel paths extremely unreliable for dog sleds and snowmobiles, increasing isolation and immobility. Increasingly, Inuit are being forced to seek modernized work opportunities, driven out of generational hunting traditions due to climate change and the resulting economic insecurity. This has had devastating impacts on Inuit communities, particularly young men who can no longer partake in traditional hunting.
 

The spiritual significance of climate change

Inuit shaman Angaangaq Angakkorsuaq speaks about the spiritual significance of climate change at international conferences around the world. Angaangaq is a traditional healer, storyteller and carrier of the Qilaut (wind drum), whose  family belongs to the traditional healers of the Far North from Greenland. His name means 'The Man Who Looks Like His Uncle'. Since he was a child he was trained by his family--especially by his Grandmother Aanakasaa--for becoming a shaman. The spiritual task given by his mother is: "Melting the Ice in the Heart of Man."

 

Angaangaq bridges the boundaries of cultures and faiths in people young and old. His work has taken him to over 70 countries around the world. He conducts circles, seminars and Aalaartiviit--traditional sweat lodges. His teachings are deeply rooted in the wisdom of the oral healing traditions of his people, which enabled people over thousands of years to survive in one of the harshest places on Earth.
 

In an interview with LifeGate, Angaangaq shared an Indigenous perspective on climate change. Everyone talks about climate change but nobody talks about its spiritual significance. "According to the old people, a third of the population on Earth will vanish," says Angaangaq, "they say many people will die, some will barely survive, and few will have a life." His message is very powerful as it is not just about Mother Earth, who is ever-changing, it is about human lives--and we have never been so many.
 

"The ice is a living thing, you can see it in my grandmother's village. In the summer it breaks and explodes and when water gushes out you can't hear anything but that. Sometimes when there's a storm the waves are so strong that they can spew chunks of ice several kilometres away. Ice that weighs a ton," he says. The difference now is not only in our numbers but in what we have done to the Earth: "We've raped Mother Earth, taken all her resources and we're still doing it without considering the impact it can have on our personal life."
 

Angaangaq also believes that while we often talk about animals as inferior creatures we don't realize that they have a much greater capacity of adaption than us. For example, we can only live in a temperature range of 100 degrees Celsius, whereas that range is as high as 200 degrees for polar bears. "We can't adapt to hot weather, they can. Isn't that so interesting?" Angaangaq ponders.
 

Becoming the hope
 

"The changes are so bad that we can no longer save the world, we can no longer stop the melting of the big ice," confides Angaangaq. "The only thing I can think of now is to somehow find the strength and capacity within myself to become the hope. Not because I'm better than anyone else but because as a grandfather I hope that my grandchildren will have a life worth enjoying, with beauty everywhere, where you kill animals without forgetting to say thank you, where you grow what you eat, and I want to find other people willing to change their lives to be that hope."
 

"Right now the government doesn't talk about this, nor do the activists. You're just one name out of several billion but, really, you have a beautiful spirit and you're worth knowing and doing something for! The land will sink, this is a fact, what will they do with you when the ocean comes? As my father used to say, we know so much but comprehend so little."
 

The melting of the Arctic ice sheets is a call for us to reflect on the spiritual significance of climate change and our way of living. It's time to look with eyes of faith into our future and believe we can make a difference. If we have hope, there is potential for extraordinary change--things will survive. The Indigenous elders teach us if we return to harmony in our lives, melting the ice in our hearts, reconnecting with one another, we will survive. It is time to use this knowledge to help mankind.

The Riddle of the Saxony-Anhalt Shaman

The 9000-year-old grave of a shaman in Saxony-Anhalt, Germany has so far posed many mysteries. Now a team of experts has gained new insights into this. "The shaman's grave is a key find that provides deep insights into the beginnings of spirituality and religion and shows the central role women played in prehistory," says state archaeologist Harald Meller, who coordinates the project. "Thanks to the detective work of many scientists, we can reconstruct the fate and appearance of a unique woman."
 

He presents the results in the book "The Riddle of the Shaman: A Journey to Our Archaeological Beginnings", written together with the historian Kai Michel. The grave in Bad Durrenberg (Saalekreis) was accidentally discovered in 1934 during sewer works. The woman was around 30 to 35 years old. In her arms she held an infant. A headdress made of deer antlers and numerous animal teeth is interpreted as part of a shamanic costume. 

What archaeogenetics can achieve today 

Bones were found during the 2019 excavations, which made it possible to determine the identity of the child. "Thanks to the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Leipzig, we now know it was a boy," says Meller. "But he wasn't her son." The case is an impressive example of what archaeogenetics can do today. "Their founder, Svante Pääbo, rightly received the Nobel Prize for medicine," says the state archaeologist.
 

The shaman comes from a time when dense primeval forests covered Europe after the Ice Age. "The living environment, which was radically changed by the climate, presented people with enormous challenges," explains Michel. "The shaman was a spiritual specialist who used the spirits to help people and heal others." She was so successful that people made pilgrimages to her from far and wide.
 

She was buried in an octagonal tomb. "It's extraordinary. In general, it's the richest grave of its time," says the state archaeologist. "We can show that it was visited centuries later."

The World is Running Out of Water

The world is "running out of water," Makasa Looking Horse says, and if we don't take action soon, it will be too late. Looking Horse, from Six Nations of the Grand River in Ontario, is one of the hosts of the Ohneganos Ohnegahdę:gyo -- Let's Talk about Water podcast, which won a 2021 David Suzuki Foundation Future Ground Prize. The prize recognizes youth-led movements. It's a podcast created, the Suzuki Foundation says, to "engage Indigenous communities and disseminate research findings by facilitating meaningful discussion about water issues and climate change."
 

Looking Horse points to Aberfoyle, Ontario, where BlueTriton Brands, Inc., an American beverage company based in Connecticut, has permits to take 3.6 million litres of water a day out of an aquifer there. BlueTriton is the new name of the giant corporation better known as Nestlé Waters North America. The name was changed to BlueTriton Brands in 2021.
 

She says "they're making millions off our water and selling it. And the thing about aquifer waters that it takes 6,000 to 10,000 years for that water to filter through the ground. We'll never see that water within our lifetime again and that's why it's so important that we stop water extraction."
 

BlueTriton says, in a report from November 2021, that it has conducted "extensive testing and studies over the years to ensure that their operations do not diminish the availability of water for other users or the environment." The company says "permit conditions require BlueTriton to monitor the natural and pumping-related variations in groundwater and surface water levels." The permit was renewed by the Ontario government in 2021 and runs until November 2026.
 

Looking Horse's commitment to protecting water was passed down from her parents. Her mother is Dawn Martin-Hill, one of the founders of the Indigenous studies program at McMaster University and the winner of the University of Oklahoma's International Water Prize, for her commitment to improving water security for the people of the Six Nations of the Grand River. 

 

Her father is Chief Arvol Looking Horse, 19th Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe. He was given the responsibility at age 12, the youngest keeper in history. Looking Horse  says her path into activism and water sovereignty didn't happen overnight. It was a long and encompassing journey full of passion for earth, prayer for water and everything on earth.
 

Similar to Looking Horse, the United Nations (UN) also has concerns about how much water humans can access. According to a UN report, by 2025 1.8 billion people will be living in countries or regions with absolute water scarcity, and two thirds of the world's population could be living under "water stressed conditions."
 

In June of 2019, Looking Horse hand delivered a cease and desist letter from the Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council to Nestlé Waters in Aberfoyle. In 2021, the council sent another letter to BlueTriton, after the company changed its name, saying "the majority of our people at Six Nations do not have access to clean drinking water... we declare your activities to remove [aquifer] waters under our territories unpermitted and demand that you cease your activity immediately."
 

The fight for water sovereignty and for clean drinking water continues for Looking Horse. "The urgency worldwide is huge because the world is running out of water. This is only one example of exploitative extraction by a big corporation. This doesn't include all of the pollution and micro plastics that are living in waterways and systems across the globe," she said.
 

"I've been praying for water and working with water for a very long time, and that's where it started," she said. "You start to learn how valuable water is on a spiritual level, but also on a statistic level. The world is really in a water crisis. So, it's in our culture to protect the water and have a responsibility."

Dark Ecology

Scientists have determined that we are now living in the Anthropocene age: the new epoch of geological time in which human activity is considered such a powerful influence on the environment, climate and ecology of the planet that it will leave its legacy for millennia. The Anthropocene is notable as being human-influenced, or anthropogenic, based on overwhelming global evidence that atmospheric, geologic, hydrologic, biospheric, and other Earth system processes are now altered by humans. In the Anthropocene, humans move from a biological to a geological agent. The Anthropocene is distinguished as a new period after or within the Holocene, the current epoch, which began approximately 10,000 years ago with the end of the last glacial period.
 

The awareness we've gained in the Anthropocene is not generally a happy one. Many environmentalists now warn of impending global catastrophe and urge industrial societies to change course. Philosopher Timothy Morton, however, stakes out a more iconoclastic position. He wants humanity to give up some of its core beliefs, from the fantasy that we can control the planet to the notion that we are 'above' other beings. His ideas might sound weird, but they're catching on. Morton, whose most quoted book is called Ecology Without Nature, proposes a perspective that sets him apart from all those scientists and social commentators warning of the impending disaster that is global warming. Instead of raising the ecological alarm of the apocalypse, he advocates what he calls "dark ecology," which holds that the much-feared catastrophe has, in fact, already occurred.
 

Morton means not only that irreversible global warming is under way, but also something more wide-reaching. "We Mesopotamians" -- as he calls the past 400 or so generations of humans living in agricultural and industrial societies -- thought that we were simply manipulating other entities (by farming and engineering, and so on) in a vacuum, as if we were lab technicians and they were in some kind of giant petri dish called "nature" or "the environment." In the Anthropocene, Morton says we must wake up to the fact that we never stood apart from or controlled the non-human things on the planet, but have always been thoroughly bound up with them. We can't even burn, throw or flush things away without them coming back to us in some form, such as harmful pollution. Our most cherished ideas about nature and the environment -- that they are separate from us, and relatively stable -- have been destroyed.
 

Morton likens this realization to detective stories in which the hunter realizes he is hunting himself (his favorite examples are Blade Runner and Oedipus Rex). "Not all of us are prepared to feel sufficiently creeped out by this epiphany," he says. This is a hard pill to swallow, but there's another twist: even though humans have caused the Anthropocene, we cannot control it. That might sound gloomy, but Morton glimpses in it a liberation. If we give up the delusion of controlling everything around us, we might refocus ourselves on the pleasure we take in other beings and life itself. Enjoyment, Morton believes, might be the thing that turns us on to a new kind of politics. "Even if it's true that we really are screwed, let's not spend the rest of our lives on this planet telling ourselves how screwed we are."

Chief Arvol Looking Horse Calls for Unity

All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer: Chief Arvol Looking Horse, 19th Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe, calls on people from around the globe to gather at sacred places on June 21 and join in prayer for the healing and protection of Grandmother Earth.
 

June 21, 2022
 

We warned that one day you would not be able to control what you have created, that day is here. Now we must unite once again to create an energy shift upon Grandmother Earth. She cannot take any more impact from all the selfish decisions being made.
 

We have come to that place in this time upon Earth, to now make a stand together. To unite -- each in our own sacred life-ways we have chosen to walk, whatever religion or belief, go to your sacred spaces and join us in these special prayers for the Earth on June 21st. It has been proven we can create miracles when we unite spiritually.
 

Many white animals have shown their sacred color throughout the world now, and they continue to communicate that we are at the crossroads. We have walked through two years of losing many relatives through a terrible disease, and so have the animals and plant life also continue to suffer. The imbalance of Mni wic'oni (water of life) causing droughts and fires to severe flooding is everywhere, and I feel more suffering is to come from all these poor choices that are being made.
 

I humbly request a time from each of the two legged in this world to send a prayer to heal our precious Earth and the balance of Mni wic'oni to be restored. Begin to prepare in your homelands to unite -- All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer -- for the sake of Grandmother Earth, our source of life not a resource.
 

In a sacred hoop of life where there is no ending in no beginning.
Chief Arvol Looking Horse
19th Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe

 

Source: Last Real Indians

"The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity"

The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity is a landmark new book by British archaeologist David Wengrow and the late anthropologist David Graeber, who was a London-based author, anarchist activist and professor of anthropology at the London School of Economics. Graeber was the author of Debt: The First 5,000 Years and Bullshit Jobs: A Theory, and was a contributor to Harper's Magazine, The Guardian, and The Baffler. An iconic thinker and renowned activist, Graeber was a leading figure in the Occupy Wall Street movement, and is sometimes credited with having coined the slogan, "We are the 99 percent."

The Dawn of Everything offers a dramatically new understanding of human history, challenging our most fundamental assumptions about social evolution -- from the development of agriculture and cities to the origins of the state, democracy, and inequality -- and revealing new possibilities for human emancipation. In its early chapters, the book proposes that the European Age of Enlightenment in the 17th and 18th centuries was actually, in great measure, a response to the Indigenous philosophies that Colonists and Imperialists had come into contact with in the New World of North America. Ideas of freedom, equality, and democracy did not exist in Medieval Europe. Ever since then, the Western mind has been moving closer, in these areas, to Native American views. As the authors point out, our ideas about human freedom, democracy, and sexual equality are much closer to that of an Indigenous person of the 16th Century than they are to the European Catholic view.

One of the main propositions that Graeber and Wengrow put forth in The Dawn of Everything is that the ancestors of our prehistory were not simple, ignorant savages, but rather self-conscious, idiosyncratic social organizers, evolving through a "carnival parade of political forms." Today we might use words like anarchist, communist, authoritarian, or egalitarian to describe their activity, but that language fails to represent the sheer quirkiness of the actual case studies: large cities without central authorities or farming (Göbekli Tepe), tribal nations spanning entire continents (Cahokia), and social housing projects (Teotihuacan).

 

Some populations would even alternate their social systems on a seasonal basis. For example, the Plains tribes of North America formed into an organized political community under one government during the seasonal bison hunt. There was a police force and squads of warriors with full coercive powers. If anyone endangered the success of the hunt, they could be punished, imprisoned, or even killed. The people who occupied those enforcement roles rotated from year to year. These coercive institutions did not last beyond the period of the hunting and ritual Sundance season. During the rest of the year, these Plains societies would split off into smaller groups which had entirely different social systems where people would have to resolve disputes through processes of deliberation and debate.

 

For 40,000 years, people have been moving between various forms of equal and unequal social structures, building up hierarchies and then dismantling them. The authors make the case that, rather than being less politically self-conscious than people nowadays, people in stateless societies were considerably more so. How did we get stuck?

One of the key arguments of the book is its stance against a reductionist view of our current circumstances: its insistence that the first 300,000 years of human history offer a past that is more varied, hopeful and altogether more interesting than what we have interpreted it to be, and that the same might be true of our future. Our species has been creating new ways of living in all the diverse ecosystems on this planet for hundreds of thousands of years. The Dawn of Everything fundamentally transforms our understanding of the human past and offers a path toward imagining new forms of freedom, new ways of organizing society. We have the freedom to create new and different forms of social reality, so why not exercise it. We have done all this before. We can do it again. The book's optimism, in the face of impending climate doom, political polarization, and social upheaval, is itself a provocation to act.

Hopi Elder Thomas Banyacya

I had the opportunity to meet Hopi elder and activist Thomas Banyacya in 1990 when he gave a talk at Central Oregon Community College in Bend, Oregon. Thomas Banyacya was one of four Hopis (the others were David Monongye, Dan Evehema and Dan Katchongva) who were named by elders to reveal Hopi traditional wisdom and teachings, including the Hopi prophecies for the future, to the general public after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan. He spent half a century on a tireless and often thankless Hopi spiritual mission to save the planet from the ravages of modern materialism and greed. He was so steadfast in his devotion to the pacifism, traditions and sovereignty of the Hopi that he spent seven years in jail rather than register for the draft in World War II.  

 

Banyacya told the attendees that the Native peoples of this land were put here by the Creator with instructions to keep this land clean through prayer, meditation, ceremonies and fasting. They believe there is a spirit in every living thing around us, and a spirit in people that makes us choose what to do and correct ourselves when we err. At the present time, much human effort and mineral resources go towards making weaponry, and so nature is turning against us with extreme weather, volcanoes and big winds. These things, he said, are related to the present behavior of mankind. The Hopi elders warned that the white brother might turn away from spiritual ways and use his inventions destructively. We are in a most dangerous period, and prayer and meditation are needed. 
 

At one point, Banyacya showed a painting of a petroglyph known as Prophecy Rock near the Hopi village of Oraibi, explaining the meaning of certain features. One line leading upwards represented an all out materialistic path with success in inventions that could easily lead to self-destruction. Another line represented an alternative spiritual path with a possibility of cleaning up our mess without annihilation. Banyacya said that someday many nations would come together, we would realize the error of our ways, and people would start creating better feeling and harmony and clean up the mess without starting World War III.
 

Hearing Banyacya's message was truly a blessing and an honor. His strong stance on environmentalism, his service to communities and  nations, and his reverence for the traditions and teachings of his people were an inspiration. His words and passion inspired my own activism in environmentalism, Indigenous rights and the ongoing peace movement. Banyacya passed away in 1999 at the age of 89. His message seems very relevant in this time of global crisis.

Winona LaDuke: Native Environmentalism

I had the opportunity to meet Winona LaDuke and hear her speak at a conference years ago. LaDuke is a renowned Anishinaabe environmentalist, economist, writer and past two time vice-presidential candidate (with Ralph Nader), known for her work on tribal land claims and preservation, as well as women's rights. She is from the Makwa Dodaem (Bear Clan) of the White Earth Reservation in northern Minnesota. LaDuke was raised in Ashland Oregon, the daughter of Betty Bernstein and Vincent (Sun Bear) LaDuke. Her Anishinaabe father worked as an actor in Hollywood in supporting roles in Western movies before establishing himself as an author and spiritual leader in the 1980's. Her mother is an artist and writer who has gained an international reputation for her murals, paintings and sketches.

LaDuke attended Harvard University, Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Antioch University. She has testified at the United Nations, U.S. Congress, state hearings, and is an expert witness on economics and the environment. She advocates primarily for the protection of the environment and the rights of women. In 1985, LaDuke helped found the Indigenous Women's Network. She worked with the Native organization Women of All Red Nations to publicize American forced sterilization of Native American women. In 1989, LaDuke founded the White Earth Land Recovery Project in Minnesota with the proceeds of a human rights award from Reebok. The goal is to buy back land in the White Earth Indian Reservation that non-Natives bought and to create enterprises that provide work to Anishinaabe.

LaDuke is humorous, enlightening and above all political. She speaks with a Native voice without altering her language for non-Natives. Her words differ from establishment thinking and offer new ways of understanding the world and the solutions we need for the great issues of climate change. She conveys a beautiful and daring vision of political, spiritual and ecological transformation. LaDuke spoke at length about Native environmental issues and challenges. Despite making up a tiny fraction of the world's population, Indigenous peoples hold ancestral rights to some 65 percent of the planet. This poignant fact conveys the enormous role that Native peoples play not only as environmental stewards, but as political actors on the global stage.
 

All over the world, Native peoples are engaged in battles with hostile corporations and governments that claim the right to set aside small reserves for Native people, and then to seize the rest of their traditional territory. They are confronting the destructive practices of industry and leading the charge against climate change, while defending the rivers, forests and food systems that we all depend on. At the same time, they are blocking governments from eroding basic rights and freedoms and turning to the courts of the world to remedy over 500 years of historical wrongs. Native peoples are putting their lives on the line and fighting back for political autonomy and land rights. And all the while, they are breathing new life into the biocultural heritage that has the potential to sustain the entire human race.
 

Native Americans often articulate alternative environmental perspectives and relationships to the natural world. Indigenous mythologies and oral traditions express a non-anthropocentric environmental ethic. Indigenous groups offer ancient tried-and-tested knowledge and wisdom based on their own locally developed practices of resource use. And, as Native peoples themselves have insisted for centuries, they often understand and exhibit a holistic, interconnected and interdependent relationship to particular landscapes and to the totality of life, animate and inanimate, found there.
 

Perhaps the most important aspect of Indigenous cosmology is the conception of creation as a living process, resulting in a living universe in which a kinship exists between all things. Thus the Mother Earth is a living being, as are the Sun, Stars and the Moon. Hence the Creators are our family, our Grandparents or Parents, and all of their creations are children who are also our relations.

LaDuke captured the essence of this concept when she said: "Native American teachings describe the relations all around--animals, fish, trees, and rocks--as our brothers, sisters, uncles, and grandpas...These relations are honored in ceremony, song, story, and life that keep relations close--to buffalo, sturgeon, salmon, turtles, bears, wolves, and panthers. These are our older relatives--the ones who came before and taught us how to live."
 

The industrialized West is largely unaware of how Indigenous societies have functioned, and the strengths they possess that industrial cultures have lacked. Our notions of progress are based on the idea that high tech means better and that industrial cultures are somehow more advanced socially. The current state of our threatened environment demands that communication channels be opened for dialogue and engagement with Native environmental ethics.  
 

When describing Indigenous environmental activism, LaDuke said, "Grassroots and land-based struggles characterize most of Native environmentalism. We are nations of people with distinct land areas, and our leadership and direction emerge from the land up." Each nation and community has its own unique cultural traditions linked to the land. 

LaDuke detailed how different groups of Native people are contending with environmental issues and are seeking to address them at the local, community level. They are also forming national and international organizations that seek to help individual nations, in large part through information sharing and technical assistance. In the final analysis, however, each nation, reserve, or community has to confront its own issues and develop its own leadership. This must be stressed over and over again: each sovereign Native nation will deal with its own environmental issues in its own way. There is no single Native American government that can develop a collective Indigenous response to the crisis we all face.

LaDuke emphasized that the environmental awareness of many Native American groups translates into a high level of respect for women in their communities. A good deal of evidence has shown that when women have high status, education, and choices, they tend to greatly enrich a community and to stabilize population growth. Many traditional American societies have been able to maintain balance with their environments because of the high status of women, a long period of nursing for infants, and/or the control of reproductive decisions by women. Many of the leaders in the Native struggle today are women.

LaDuke pointed out that respect and humility form the foundation of Native lifeways, since they not only lead to minimal exploitation of other living things but also preclude the arrogance of colonial missionary activity, secular imperialism, and the oppressive patriarchy. She noted that: "In each deliberation we consider the impact on the seventh generation from now. Everything we have today we inherited, we are very, very fortunate today that our ancestors were strong people. We’re very, very fortunate that our ancestors took care of this land so well. We also know that those who are not yet here are counting on us not to mess this up…they’re counting on us to make sure that there will be water for them to drink, that there will still be fish, that the air will not be so poisoned or so hot that they cannot live."
 

Native people are not only trying to clean up uranium tailings, purify polluted water, and mount opposition to fossil fuel extraction; they are also continuing their spiritual ways of seeking to celebrate and support all life by means of ceremonies and prayers. As LaDuke told us in closing: "In our communities, Native environmentalists sing centuries-old songs to renew life, to give thanks for the strawberries, to call home fish, and to thank Mother Earth for her blessings."

The Hidden Life of Trees

Peter Wohlleben, a German forester and author, has a rare understanding of the inner life of trees, and is able to describe it in accessible, evocative language. His book, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, has sold more than two million copies worldwide. Wohlleben draws on groundbreaking scientific discoveries to describe how trees are like human families: tree parents live together with their children, communicate with them, support them as they grow, share nutrients with those who are sick or struggling, and even warn each other of impending dangers. Wohlleben also shares his deep love of woods and forests, explaining the amazing processes of life, death, and regeneration he has observed in his woodland.

 
A revolution has been taking place in the scientific understanding of trees, and Wohlleben is the first writer to convey its amazements to a general audience. The latest scientific studies, conducted at well-respected universities in Germany and around the world, confirm what he has long suspected from close observation in this forest: Trees are far more alert, social, sophisticated -- and even intelligent -- than we thought.

 
There is now a substantial body of scientific evidence that shows that trees of the same species are communal, and will often form alliances with trees of other species. Forest trees have evolved to live in cooperative, interdependent relationships, maintained by communication and a collective intelligence similar to an insect colony. These soaring columns of living wood draw the eye upward to their outspreading crowns, but the real action is taking place underground, just a few inches below our feet.
 

All the trees in a forest are connected to each other through underground fungal networks. Trees share water and nutrients through the networks, and also use them to communicate. They send distress signals about drought and disease, for example, or insect attacks, and other trees alter their behavior when they receive these messages. Scientists call these mycorrhizal networks. The fine, hairlike root tips of trees join together with microscopic fungal filaments to form the basic links of the network, which appears to operate as a symbiotic relationship between trees and fungi, or perhaps an economic exchange. As a kind of fee for services, the fungi consume about 30 percent of the sugar that trees photosynthesize from sunlight. The sugar is what fuels the fungi, as they scavenge the soil for nitrogen, phosphorus and other mineral nutrients, which are then absorbed and consumed by the trees.
 

To communicate through the network, trees send chemical, hormonal and slow-pulsing electrical signals, which scientists are just beginning to decipher. Edward Farmer at the University of Lausanne in Switzerland has been studying the electrical pulses, and he has identified a voltage-based signaling system that appears strikingly similar to animal nervous systems (although he does not suggest that plants have neurons or brains).

Five-thousand miles away, at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Suzanne Simard and her grad students are making astonishing new discoveries about the sensitivity and interconnectedness of trees in the Pacific temperate rainforests of western North America. Dr. Simard is a professor with the UBC Faculty of Forestry, where she lectures on and researches the role of mycorrhizae and mycorrhizal networks in tree species migrations with climate change disturbance. Networks of mycorrhizal fungal mycelium have recently been discovered by Professor Simard and her graduate students to connect the roots of trees and facilitate the sharing of resources in Douglas-fir forests of interior British Columbia, thereby bolstering their resilience against disturbance or stress and facilitating the establishment of new regeneration.

They found that the mycorrhizal network serves as a belowground pathway for transfer of carbon from the nutrient-rich deciduous trees to nearby regenerating Douglas-fir seedlings. Moreover, they found that carbon transfer was enhanced when Douglas-fir seedlings were shaded in mid-summer, providing a subsidy that may be important in Douglas-fir survival and growth, thus helping maintain a mixed forest community during early succession.

 
Simard's research indicates that all trees in a forest ecosystem are interconnected, with the largest, oldest trees serving as hubs. The underground exchange of nutrients increases the survival of younger trees linked into the network of old trees. She has found vast underground tree root systems that are kind of like giant brains. Like the neurons in our own brains, trees send messages via their roots. In fact, she says that trees aren't only communicating, but are also sending resources back and forth to help out other trees -- even if they are a different kind of tree. 

Simard calls the older trees (up to 500 years old) "mother trees." Mother trees are the biggest, oldest trees in the forest with the most fungal connections. They're not necessarily female, but Simard sees them in a nurturing, supportive, maternal role. With their deep roots, they draw up water and make it available to shallow-rooted seedlings. They help neighboring trees by sending them nutrients, and when the neighbors are struggling, mother trees detect their distress signals and increase the flow of nutrients accordingly.

 
When mother trees begin to die, they start passing their resources off to the younger trees around them. Simard says it's like the passing of a wand from one generation to the next. Besides being a beautiful way to understand forests, this information also gives us one more reason to stop clear cutting, which is when timber companies clear tracts of land of all trees. It's easier for the loggers, but it takes away the mother trees so they can't pass along those resources to the next generation. With the logging of mother trees, they wipe out whole forest communities, and that's nothing less than attempted ecocide. After learning about the complex life of trees, a walk in the woods will never be the same again.

Native Americans Welcome Shutdown of KXL Pipeline

The newly inaugurated US president has issued an executive order to cancel the Canadian pipeline project approved by his predecessor. Joe Biden has said climate change will be a big focus of his presidency. Biden's executive order reverses former President Donald Trump's revival of the pipeline. Trump in 2017 reduced regulations that would otherwise slow building projects. Former President Barack Obama rejected the pipeline in 2015 saying it would "undercut" American leadership in the fight against global climate change. The completed segment of pipeline was to cover a 1,179-mile route from the province of Alberta, Canada, to Nebraska where it would have connected with the existing pipelines leading to the coast. It would have transported up to 830,000 barrels of heavy crude oil a day. 

Montana tribal members, fearing water contamination, are relieved as the Keystone XL pipeline is blocked. When Cheyenne Foote heard that President Joe Biden blocked the Keystone XL pipeline permit on his first day in office, she cried. Foote, 68, is an elder of the Fort Peck Assiniboine and Sioux Tribes, and she feared the pipeline, which passes through a portion of Montana near the Fort Peck Reservation, would contaminate the tribes' water supply. "Water is life," she said. "You can't live without water. The Creator gave it to us, and it's our job to take care of it."

Tribes in South Dakota have been opposed to and protesting the pipeline's construction for more than a decade. President of the Oglala Lakota Nation, Kevin Killer, said Wednesday night the cancellation of the pipeline permit "sends a strong message to tribal nations, and symbolizes a willingness to build on government-to-government relationships established through our treaties," referencing the 1851 and 1868 Fort Laramie treaties of the Great Sioux Nation.

Chairman of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, Harold Frazier, said the project posed a danger to tribal land and people. "This project has scarred our territorial and treaty lands with its presence and threatened our people like a dagger to our throats," Frazier wrote Wednesday night. "We have witnessed the invasion of our land and the genocide of our families -- this project is an extension of the racial, environmental and social injustices we have suffered." 

Indigenous justice organizer for the South Dakota chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, Candi Brings Plenty, said Wednesday night Indigenous people have been at the forefront of the "fight for environmental justice and protection." The ACLU South Dakota intervened in a "riot boosting" bill last year. In March, Gov. Kristi Noem signed a revised version, which revived the state's criminal and civil penalties for rioting and inciting a riot. A federal judge said part of the state's laws were unconstitutional because they targeted those protesting the Keystone XL Pipeline. 

The Lakota People's Law Project said Wednesday the decision to cancel the pipeline is a "pivot point" to recognize "the health of our Earth." Rescinding KXL's permit is a promising early signal that the new administration is listening to Native American concerns and will take issues of climate and Indigenous justice seriously. We have to insist that it not stop there. It's also high time to shut down the Dakota Access pipeline (DAPL). Tell president-elect Joe Biden to stop DAPL once and for all. Protect the planet and the Lakota people. No destruction of the earth. No endangering our water. Mni wiconi -- water is life. Sign the petition.

The Trees are My Grandparents

The Amazon rainforest has been home to the Achuar people of Ecuador for thousands of years. Skilled hunters and fishermen, they have a spiritual connection with nature and consider themselves the forest's greatest protectors.

Life is governed by their ancestors, with family history passed down orally from generation to generation. Yet traditions are being undermined as the young are tempted away by modernity, while their fragile ecosystem faces man-made destruction.

But now, the same technological developments so often deemed a threat to traditional ways of life, have offered the Achuar people, and other remote tribal people, the opportunity to preserve their legacy and fight back against the eradication of their histories.

A team from the global genealogy website MyHeritage has been spending time with groups like the Achuar in an attempt to preserve their family heritage.

Entsakua Yunkar, shaman of the Achuar Sharamentsa community in Ecuador, said the project was helping to ease his fears that "history can disappear" very quickly.

"I feel like the father of this community," Yunkar said. "If I don't exist here, this community can't have power and be successful. I feel that I give positive energy to the communities and families here.

"The big trees are my grandparents. They speak to me. I feel very sad when I think about what will happen in a long time. The world is changing. Our goal is to protect this area and our culture so it will be alive for many years."

The very existence of tribal communities around the world is threatened by a whole host of factors. Imported diseases, such as influenza, measles and chickenpox, can prove deadly when tribes people have not had the chance to develop any immunity, according to Survival International, the global charity for tribal people's rights.

Deforestation and climate change are also huge threats, while technology and modernity risk destroying communities by luring younger members away to urban regions.

The genealogy project is the brainchild of Golan Levi, a qualified architect who earlier in his career spent years creating giant sculptures with tribes around the world.

"I heard fascinating stories [during his time as an architect]," he said. "They had a history of oral tradition, but they didn't have a means to preserve their heritage.

"The oral tradition keeps the essence of their communities but they're losing the pieces. They might know the meaning behind a ceremony but they wouldn't be able to tell you the name of their great great grandparents.

"When I started working at MyHeritage I realized it was the perfect fit to document those stories."

The group's first project was with the Himba people of Namibia in 2015, with subsequent delegations visiting the Nenets in Siberia, the Emberá, Ngäbe, Naso and Guna in Panama, and several tribes in Papua New Guinea.

"Everything varies from tribe to tribe … but family and how they collaborate with each other is key," said Levi.

He explains the groups have initially been met with skepticism, but their willingness to muck in breaks down barriers with the tribes people, who eventually agree to be photographed, filmed and interviewed. "It takes time to build trust," he adds. "We live as they live in order to understand how they view the world and this is something they greatly appreciate."

Franklin Wasump, an Achuar who hails from the Wayusentsa community, echoed Entsakua Yunkar's concerns about his culture disappearing.

"In many years the Achuar culture may disappear, as happened with other nationalities, because there are many young people that don't want to preserve the culture," he said. "I am sad because although today it is still preserved, in the future it might not.

"It is the responsibility of the father to teach, to talk to the young children in order not to lose the culture."

Yampia Santi, an Achuar leader from the Wayusentsa community, said he hoped the project would raise awareness. "The Achuar tribe will be around for many more generations, which is why we ask you tell your friends about the rainforest and the Achuar people who live there."

This story originally appeared in The Guardian (April 2020).