We’re Entangled
After a forest fire Chamaenerion angustifolium, or fireweed as we call it, takes over in my part of the world. It’s prolific, robust and thrives in disturbed, burnt soil. In the summer, it offers deep pink blooms. The blooming starts from the base and over the course of weeks, the brilliance travels up to the tip. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can see mountain sides awash in pink- so intense you can spot it from the air.
That time is done now. Fireweed has dried and curled up into itself, complete after it’s silky seed filaments burst from long, upright pods. Tucked inside each plant are 80,000 seeds, that flash dance through the fall season leaving their sweat and fibrous casings, like old jeans, on the dirt floor. If you walk in the bush- even now- you can’t help but get covered in them.
After chasing a stick yesterday, my Aussie Shep Percy came back with one of the seeds lodged in his eye ball. We didn’t notice until much later. When we did, my partner delicately removed it from his eye and let him sniff it. Instead of sniffing, he ate it, cementing an inter-species entanglement.
Entanglement -in and between species- is the art of becoming embedded in one another. Often without noticing.
Our Deep Concern
Right now, there’s a distinct flavor of our entanglement. It’s not the sweetness of fireweed. There’s a scent of threat, trauma and war. We’re collectively on high alert- to differing degrees- depending on our proximity to the heat.
Every team, every leader, every human I’ve talked to over the last 10 days are expressing a sense of entanglement. It stretches across fields, oceans, borders, interpretations, families and faith. There’s a realization that grief, terror and rage have exploded- like the fireweed seeds- and lodged themselves into our eyes and heart. Even for those of us with no family in the region, there’s a corporeal awakening. A rhizome of deep concern- for softer things- that invite us to see and digest what’s happening.
The seeing and digesting is uneven.
Some of us are shouting. Some are protesting. Some are writing their MPs. Some are reading. Some are learning. Some are discerning when and where to speak safely. Some are mourning. Some are terrified. Some are judging. Some are threatening. Some are writing. Some are blaming. Some are processing trauma. Some are summoning every magic, prayer, lever of UN diplomacy, underground tunnel and ancestor. And some are bombing, funding, planning and killing.
Moving towards the Disturbance
Somehow this image is helping me now.
I’m imagining a walk through dessicated fireweed. My legs and fleece jacket suddenly covered with thousands of seeds. They attach quietly, without being seen. Later, when I undress they’ll drop and germinate. Take over. If I continue to trace the borders of this prolific ecology, this entanglement will bring liberation. A pink swath of blooms that emerge from a disturbance.
But unlike fireweed there’s no predicting the sweet bloom of liberation when it comes to war. I know this. But I long for it anyway.
So I move towards the disturbance.
Not the violence but our messy, human action. I’m holding our collective, urgent fumbling AS the disturbed ground. Somehow we’re what’s left, after a fire goes through. Whether we’re brave or not, well spoken or not, afraid or not. We’re the ground, not the seed. Hard, messy human ground. Dry and cracked. Uncertain whether it can hold water long enough for new possibilities to take root.
Our collective heart is weighed down by a grief too monstrous to name. And there’s no way through but in. No other way than to stay with the trouble in whatever capacity we can muster. Like a friend of mine encouraged this week, may we give ourselves extra grace. Extra grace as we take in this dry, cracked earth.
Our entangled action IS the disturbed ground. The me in you. You in me. Us in everything. Falling into the unbearable crack of inter-generational suffering, the unbearable pain of witnessing it unfold. And I’m praying, praying that seeds will germinate in disturbed ground.
May you know that you’re part of the soil.
11 Action Ideas when You Feel Frozen (a few suggestions)
This is not a complete or exhaustive list but I hope provides some ideas and options, if you feel called to disturb the ground in this heat.
- Educate yourself on the long and complex history of the Middle East by listening to podcasts, Ted Talks or scholar-activists. Notice that some take a strong stand on one side or the other. Others will take a stand for peace and total non-violence. Notice what resonates with you, challenges you and calls you into new ways of seeing/acting. Take time to listen, learn and educate yourself on the conflict. One that has roots that go back thousands of years, not decades. Use this to help you discern what your role you could play (or not) at this time.
- Consider writing a short email/letter to Canadian (or your national equivalent) Foreign Affairs Minister, The Hon. Mélanie Joly, and/or your local MP to ask for (if this feels right to you). You may want to suggest or ask for one or all of the following:
- an immediate ceasefire;
- a safe corridor to provide humanitarian relief to Gaza;
- an end to the current blockade;
- the immediate and safe release of all hostages;
- protection and safety of all children
- adherence to international law, and the upholding the rights to life, freedom and dignity of both Palestinians and Israelis (credit to Kairos for the language here)
- Write, draw, craft or journal while listening to music that soothes your nervous system.
- Practice listening to perspectives that are different from yours on less heated subjects. Remember that listening doesn’t mean you agree. Being able to seek, listen, and understand another person’s perspective is an essential capacity for working through difference, tension and conflict.
- Lie down on the earth and feel it supporting you (an earthing practice)
- Take time to be present with your kids, partner or close family; appreciate and savor weekly activities as they learn and grow as a way of being fully present to life unfolding, here and now (a mindfulness practice)
- Consider trauma-informed counseling if you’re experiencing distress as you process or take in information related to war or inter-generational trauma
- Contribute to reputable aid organizations in the region
- Turn off your phone, minimize the news, hold your loved ones close and take time to immerse yourself in your local community (celebrate the local harvest, volunteer, visit a weekly farmer’s market or seasonal festival, attend a community meal etc.)
- Speak up for the safety and dignity of all members in your community and against antisemitism or Islamophobic sentiments
- Connect with a local multi-faith or intercultural group that works towards peace and justice and liberation for all.
May we give ourselves – and each other- extra grace in the midst of our awakened entanglement.
