This month's reading by Native American Paula Gunn Allen
explored the cosmological interrelationship between ourselves
and our planet, between our micro-ids and Mother Earth's
meta-consciousness. Allen claims earth (and, by extension,
humans) is in deep crisis, not necessarily because of
patriarchy, white supremacy, capitalism, war, or a host of
manmade socio-psychic disorders.
Rather, according to Allen,
intense transformations are asunder because Mother Earth is
going through menopause. "In this time of her emergence
as one of the sacred planets in the Grandmother galaxy, we
necessarily experience, each of us in our own specific way,
our share or form of her experience, her form. As the
initiation nears completion, we are caught in the throes of
her wailings and contractions, her muscular, circulatory, and
neurologic destabilization."
Women very much connected
with the anthropomorphization of earth as alive and as
female, and that her menopausal transformation is a rite of
passage to be respected and experienced. [For a discussion on
the pros and cons of depicting earth as female, see Nature as Female.]
Most women, however, felt that today's extreme climatic
and societal upheavals are primarily human-caused. One
woman declared that a more apt metaphor is that Mother Earth
has been battered and raped. The violence of earthquakes,
tornados, and other natural cataclysms may be a part of a
sacred birth/death/rebirth cycle, but surely the destruction
wrought by humans, a few women argued, is altogether
different and heinous.
A woman disagreed, stating that
morals, history, and human agency are anthropocentric
concepts. We flatter ourselves by believing our species plays
such a grandiose role in the production and destruction of
life. Another woman said that since human animals are part of
nature, perhaps human violence is simply another
manifestation of nature's "violence." She asked,
for example, how the ugliness of an Auschwitz is different
from the ghastly destruction of a ruthless hurricane? Why
aren't human-created catastrophes (and triumphs) simply
another expression of nature's essence?
Women with more politically active backgrounds continued
to resist the diminishment of human responsibility. They
argued that humans are "co-creators" with nature
and therefore comprise a distinctly separate category from
other life forms. New paradigms are needed to understand
that, yes, we are of nature, but we are also quite powerful
in our ability to transform nature.
One woman commented that
through genetic engineering and artificial intelligence, our
species is capable of creating androids, humanoids that may
one day take on a life of their own with unimaginable
consequences. Likewise, she posited, what if homo sapiens are
nature's androids and we are dangerously transcending
nature's omnipotency?
As ecofeminists, we abhorred such visions of distopia.
Women resolutely responded with spiritual prescriptives for
understanding the world around us. One woman spoke highly of
Trich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese monk who encourages walking
meditations that help embrace aspects of violence as a means
of reconciling a balance with nature. This same woman also
extolled Joanna Macy's despair and empowerment workshops that
concentrate on truly feeling the tragedy of the planet in
order to become empowered to make change.
Another woman
described Susun Weed's Wise Woman tradition in which bodily
diseases are considered allies for transformation, not
enemies to be purged. It became clear that death and violence
are not "bad" per se (ex., euthanasia and
abortions). A question, however, hovered in the air: If
negativity is acceptable as inherent to life processes, than
what motivation exists for change?
We ended our discussion by
returning to Paula Gunn Allen. She, too, asks how we can be
". . . politically useful, spiritually mature attendants
in this great transformation we are privileged to participate
in?" Allen's proposal: "Find out by asking as many
trees as you meet how to be a tree." Yes, let's explore
our (human and nonhuman) roots as we branch outward in
solidarity with Mother Earth's deep catharsis.