Thank you for your beautiful and satisfying words for what I feel and see as well. You’ve been a wonderful teacher and voice in my ears since I found your astrology column as a 19 year old over 25 years ago in Seattle.
“This isn’t poetry or metaphor. It’s reality as experienced by people whose perceptual doors haven’t been slammed shut by materialism.
Animism is relationship. The recognition that we live in a world of subjects, not objects. That the forest is speaking if we know how to listen. That the creek carries intelligence and memory. That the coyote who crossed our path has something to tell us.”
I have done this. I am currently near a mountain that has been used for cold war stuff with an old radar tower. I am speaking to this mountain, gazing, sometimes singing, and I think there is a sense of a relationship starting. This mountain feels a bit cold and sleepy and not comfortable that this old military place is there. I tell everything they are beautiful when I walk past. I touch with reverence and only if welcomed. I sing, even if just nonsense. I had thought to myself that I wanted to maybe make some hawthorne jelly and the next day on my walk, I went to duck under a tree and it was a hawthorne and then I saw there were several. I thanked them for showing themselves to me, but I did not harvest from them as I felt it was not the time yet. We just met! I feel blessed when the birds come to eat the seed. I even had a lone cedar waxwing stop by, perched on the feeder pole, head tilting each way. Most of this past spring a crow came by the feeder and when his family had fledged, he brought them all here and I was blessed to watch him teach them and still even feed them. I was sad when they stopped coming by. I hope next spring they return.
When I talk to the trees and Listen, they all say the same couple of things:
—“speak for us” is usually first.
—they are surprised and grateful that a person shaped like me is listening, and they like it when I say “Thank you.” I tell them that the other Two-Legs who walk by may not say so, but they are grateful for the benefits the trees provide, physically and energetically.
And ALL the trees say this: “You could hear us better without that device in your pocket.”
And when I was wearing a Fitbit and carrying a phone, I heard “You could hear us better without those things on your body.”
And this one time, sitting on a rock in the cool mist of a waterfall, I said, “If anyone has a message for me, I will try to hear it.”
And I heard, “You’re going to get cold and wet in that cotton T-shirt.”
This was my favorite article so far. It really flowed and motivated me to change my behavior for the better. Also, it motivated me to pay for a subscription... finally. I think Rob Brezsny should make it easier to pay him for his work. Maybe put the "upgrade to paid subscription" button at the beginning:) Also, I loved the indigenous art. I can add them to the course I teach called Playing with Mindfulness and Math where we explore indigenous art and math and patterns.
Indigenous.... and wondering and listening...exciting times to remember....recall .. reclaim....a moment of pause... this is way beyond land acknowledgment... thank you..
There is so much resonance and so much to assimilate. There is no shortcut. I am 65. This lifetime I acquired resonance. It gives me joyfulness. Next lifetime I plan to acquire assimilation through consistent practice within community.
This was my first newsletter, and what an introduction! So relevant, so eloquent - as usual. I especially appreciated the section on the "progressive materialist paradox." I have encounter this, myself, quite frequently with my progressive environmental friends. And, as a person of color, it grates on me that so many environmentalists can't authentically make a non-materialist argument for caring for the Earth. This part was spot on: "I’m especially puzzled by the dogmatic materialism some environmentalists cling to. They advocate for the earth while refusing to acknowledge that Indigenous peoples’ loving relationship with the land is inherently spiritual—and that this spiritual dimension is essential to their love. . . .
"If we can only defend the earth through policy arguments and carbon metrics, we’ve already conceded the ground. We’re speaking the language of the system that’s killing the world. We’re trying to save what we love by reducing it to data, to resource value, to ecosystem services. This is the very logic that made it killable in the first place." Preach, brother.
Thank you Rob, you've put it together so well. As a retired psychologist, mother and grandmother in despair about the state of the world, I took on talking with trees this year and writing about my experiences on Substack @talkingwithatree. This has had me dwelling in my own colonizing history, the impact of colonisation on the indigenous peoples of Aotearoa and Australia, and our relationship as humans with the natural world. With the help of my tree friends I have been making sense of the chaos around and finding ways to heal and maybe play a small part in contributing to humanity evolving beyond this dark phase to a re-recognition of the power and love of our inter-connection with the whole universe ❤️🌳✨️
I feel so stimulated, so inspired. I love your newsletters, Rob, and this one has hit me deeply. I've been hiding inside lately, as the mosquitoes are so bad, and I refuse to have the yard sprayed. I've got bird feeders up to help with the issue, but still... First little frost, and I think I can emerge again. I took a fabulous zoom course called Speaking to the Flowers with Mary Kerns where we learned to ask questions and actually listen to the answers. I never before considered that I could connect with flowers. Trees, yes. Not flowers. Thank you so much. I will be sure to share this article with friends.
For the past fifteen months I’ve been going at least once a week to the Salinas River to check on the status of some of the local beaver dams, wading in the water past willows and cottonwoods, cattails and speedwells, listening to the scrub jays, bushtits, and blackbirds, occasionally startling an egret, heron or duck, until I come to one of the ponds. Here is the time I take out my phone, not to check messages, but to use the camera to document the dam status for the SLO Beaver Brigade. Afterwards, I always spend time sitting in the shade, just listening.
In the decades I've been reading you, I've never been so thirsty for exactly what you reveal, nor so nourished by it. Thank you.
Thank you for your beautiful and satisfying words for what I feel and see as well. You’ve been a wonderful teacher and voice in my ears since I found your astrology column as a 19 year old over 25 years ago in Seattle.
I love the loving and stern truth-telling in this essay. I love the practical how-to offerings. I'm 100% in. You are a blessing to this world.
“This isn’t poetry or metaphor. It’s reality as experienced by people whose perceptual doors haven’t been slammed shut by materialism.
Animism is relationship. The recognition that we live in a world of subjects, not objects. That the forest is speaking if we know how to listen. That the creek carries intelligence and memory. That the coyote who crossed our path has something to tell us.”
Needed now, more than ever…thank you Rob…🙏🙏🙏❤️🌷🌿
I have done this. I am currently near a mountain that has been used for cold war stuff with an old radar tower. I am speaking to this mountain, gazing, sometimes singing, and I think there is a sense of a relationship starting. This mountain feels a bit cold and sleepy and not comfortable that this old military place is there. I tell everything they are beautiful when I walk past. I touch with reverence and only if welcomed. I sing, even if just nonsense. I had thought to myself that I wanted to maybe make some hawthorne jelly and the next day on my walk, I went to duck under a tree and it was a hawthorne and then I saw there were several. I thanked them for showing themselves to me, but I did not harvest from them as I felt it was not the time yet. We just met! I feel blessed when the birds come to eat the seed. I even had a lone cedar waxwing stop by, perched on the feeder pole, head tilting each way. Most of this past spring a crow came by the feeder and when his family had fledged, he brought them all here and I was blessed to watch him teach them and still even feed them. I was sad when they stopped coming by. I hope next spring they return.
I find that so lovely. Thank you for sharing.
When I talk to the trees and Listen, they all say the same couple of things:
—“speak for us” is usually first.
—they are surprised and grateful that a person shaped like me is listening, and they like it when I say “Thank you.” I tell them that the other Two-Legs who walk by may not say so, but they are grateful for the benefits the trees provide, physically and energetically.
And ALL the trees say this: “You could hear us better without that device in your pocket.”
And when I was wearing a Fitbit and carrying a phone, I heard “You could hear us better without those things on your body.”
And this one time, sitting on a rock in the cool mist of a waterfall, I said, “If anyone has a message for me, I will try to hear it.”
And I heard, “You’re going to get cold and wet in that cotton T-shirt.”
So there’s humor “out there,” too.
Love you to bits, Rob!
Elizabeth Kearney
That's funny 😊
Thank you.
This was my favorite article so far. It really flowed and motivated me to change my behavior for the better. Also, it motivated me to pay for a subscription... finally. I think Rob Brezsny should make it easier to pay him for his work. Maybe put the "upgrade to paid subscription" button at the beginning:) Also, I loved the indigenous art. I can add them to the course I teach called Playing with Mindfulness and Math where we explore indigenous art and math and patterns.
YES! Thank you.
Indigenous.... and wondering and listening...exciting times to remember....recall .. reclaim....a moment of pause... this is way beyond land acknowledgment... thank you..
At every turn of your words, you had me. Thank you for putting all of this into words.
There is so much resonance and so much to assimilate. There is no shortcut. I am 65. This lifetime I acquired resonance. It gives me joyfulness. Next lifetime I plan to acquire assimilation through consistent practice within community.
This was my first newsletter, and what an introduction! So relevant, so eloquent - as usual. I especially appreciated the section on the "progressive materialist paradox." I have encounter this, myself, quite frequently with my progressive environmental friends. And, as a person of color, it grates on me that so many environmentalists can't authentically make a non-materialist argument for caring for the Earth. This part was spot on: "I’m especially puzzled by the dogmatic materialism some environmentalists cling to. They advocate for the earth while refusing to acknowledge that Indigenous peoples’ loving relationship with the land is inherently spiritual—and that this spiritual dimension is essential to their love. . . .
"If we can only defend the earth through policy arguments and carbon metrics, we’ve already conceded the ground. We’re speaking the language of the system that’s killing the world. We’re trying to save what we love by reducing it to data, to resource value, to ecosystem services. This is the very logic that made it killable in the first place." Preach, brother.
Thank you Rob, you've put it together so well. As a retired psychologist, mother and grandmother in despair about the state of the world, I took on talking with trees this year and writing about my experiences on Substack @talkingwithatree. This has had me dwelling in my own colonizing history, the impact of colonisation on the indigenous peoples of Aotearoa and Australia, and our relationship as humans with the natural world. With the help of my tree friends I have been making sense of the chaos around and finding ways to heal and maybe play a small part in contributing to humanity evolving beyond this dark phase to a re-recognition of the power and love of our inter-connection with the whole universe ❤️🌳✨️
I feel so stimulated, so inspired. I love your newsletters, Rob, and this one has hit me deeply. I've been hiding inside lately, as the mosquitoes are so bad, and I refuse to have the yard sprayed. I've got bird feeders up to help with the issue, but still... First little frost, and I think I can emerge again. I took a fabulous zoom course called Speaking to the Flowers with Mary Kerns where we learned to ask questions and actually listen to the answers. I never before considered that I could connect with flowers. Trees, yes. Not flowers. Thank you so much. I will be sure to share this article with friends.
For the past fifteen months I’ve been going at least once a week to the Salinas River to check on the status of some of the local beaver dams, wading in the water past willows and cottonwoods, cattails and speedwells, listening to the scrub jays, bushtits, and blackbirds, occasionally startling an egret, heron or duck, until I come to one of the ponds. Here is the time I take out my phone, not to check messages, but to use the camera to document the dam status for the SLO Beaver Brigade. Afterwards, I always spend time sitting in the shade, just listening.
I also want to acknowledge the Salinan people who thrived in this area for thousands of years before any of my ancestors arrived on this continent.