by Alice MorningStar
I'm writing this article to explain the way I use “indigenous” to mean
the peaceful way of inhabiting the land. I am intimately dependent on a web of beings; for my
shelter, food, water, clothing, for my wastes to degrade. But it's not only about the
interdependence. It seems to me that the way I aim to live in right relationship is best described
as “indigenous”. That means to me to live as a human alongside nonhumans. It means making
the effort to learn how to balance my human needs in the web of other interrelations, learning how
to be native, how to belong.
Reading Jean Liedloff's The continuum concept
[1] and David Abram's The spell of the sensuous
[2] catalyzed a conviction in me that human happiness
and environmental justice were knit together, and that the solution for me was to start living
closer to the Earth. I have been on a quest for a number of years now to be-and-become indigenous.
It's not a finished project and possibly never will be. I feel that if I am serious about rooting
out the “seeds of war” in my own life
[3], I need to dig deeply into my habits and
practices. I need to be willing to let the way I make decisions be transformed, to accept a way of
living alongside others, and learn how to use only the energy I need. To be indigenous for me means
learning how to abandon the war on the environment waged by the dominant culture and learning how to
live peacefully.
One of the problems I've encountered in using “indigenous” to describe
my aspirations for living is people talking about “the noble savage fallacy”. Daniel
Quinn [4] addresses this at length in his books, and
I've not found much profit in argument about it. I'm not aiming to go backwards, and I’m aware
of oppression and exploitation existing in lots of kinds of societies. What I am doing is aiming to
live embedded in a real landscape, with other real people, and to reduce my ecological impact. A lot
of the wisdom I am finding I need in this path comes from other indigenous people. There are habits
of mind which seem to lead towards a sustainable, respectful use of energy and other beings. It's
necessary for me to make space to connect with the real world, and to listen to what else is living
here.
I am a scientist by training and I sometimes wonder about the instinct to do
science. It seems to me that the urge to observe, learn, apply, and experiment is innate in human
beings. Perhaps what we call academic “science” now is an outgrowth of that natural
indigenous urge to applied ecology, to knowledge of the world. Perhaps the excesses and abuses of
science at the moment are a result of the alienation from land (and thus from the true resource base)
of its participants, as much as anything else? Applied ecology including humans, and the
sophisticated kinds of environmental accounting that are now being developed by ecologists to
discuss sustainability [5] are exciting and maybe
it’s not surprising that they are uncovering the sense in some of the ancient cultural
patterns.
It’s not been an instant idea-based conversion, for me. For communication to
be meaningful with any kind of being, I need to develop a relationship: some of the cultural habits
from folk tales make more sense to me now as wisdom about getting and staying connected to other
beings. Humans tend to detach off into habits that barely register the real needs of humans, never
mind other species. I wouldn’t take as static truth an opinion from someone I just met in the
street, and although I have encountered beings as teachers, I know that like any other being their
view may be incomplete as mine is in different ways.
I feel like I am becoming more deeply connected to the land I live in and growing
to understand more clearly what wisdom sounds like. I am going through a transition after having
been parented as a child, through conscious self-parenting as an adult, into a sense of living as a
relatively functional adult amongst elders who carry a tradition. The elders I encounter are the
other non-human beings who communicate with me, as well as a few older humans in the same path: I
encounter them and it feels correct to have transferred my need for wisdom and knowledge primarily
onto that source of deep wisdom in the land. I imagine that what I am saying is very familiar to a
lot of you who are reading this. We are some of the people who are willing to make the connection,
and my experience is that the land is thirsty for and delighted with what I can bring in the
commitment of my waking humanness.
The UK where I live is a great place to be recovering the indigenous relationship.
There are many thousands of years of stories, hundreds of years of music and history, and wonderful
language, preserved and ready to be drawn upon. I love to hear and learn the stories and songs, and
revive the connection going back through history of inhabitation in this place. As well, the
sequential settling of these beautiful islands by many peoples means that ways of becoming
integrated in this land are part of our culture. I wonder though if becoming and being indigenous
require us to learn how to belong more locally in time and space than lots of humans today are used
to.
There's not only one “genetic” group who are called indigenous here in
the British Isles – so it's more obvious that the indigenous relationship is one that can be
chosen, about a connection and a commitment of spirit to spirit. Sure, the inhabitance of many
generations of my family here gives me a few more roots with which to ground myself in these islands,
but my involvement with Quakers (one of the dissenting protestant Christian churches in Britain
[6]) is another root, and my love for ancient yew
trees, holy wells, and swans are other roots, as are my interest in local traditions, learning
herbs, and observing the behaviour of animals that live here.
I have a way of describing what I mean by indigenous living in our tradition of
Druidry using the Awen symbol, /|\. I know there are probably many ways of reading and explaining
this, but I found a brief mention in Ross Nichol's book The Book of Druidry
[7] and have developed it a little over a
conversation with a friend [8]. One stave could be
seen as outgoing action: it is necessary for me to act for goodness, for sacredness, with my life -
not just a commitment of spirit but also of body, time and energy. In the Quaker tradition I follow
it is seen as necessary to live in nonviolent continuing revolution towards social and environmental
justice, and I work to embody that in relationships as well as by ethical living choices.
[9]
The opposite stave could be seen as the history. There are the ancient writings,
language study, songs, stories, folk music and dances. Also all the old crafts, everything needed to
live with materials from only a few days walk away. It's all there to be studied, and again work is
necessary to lift it out of the books, to learn it from those who can show me, and start living it.
If it's true that passionate struggling indelibly imprints a culture, then even on the outwardly
hierarchical imperialist culture are left all the traces of those who fought to be allowed to stay
in their living relationship with the land. I believe that all the clues are there, because I feel
like I am making progress in this journey.
But the central stave is the mystery. To me it is the heart of living sacredness,
and that's what I am calling the indigenous way of living. It is living and learning to live in
relationship, alive to the other beings around me. I'm connected to history, fed by it, and
responsible to the future and those for whom I hope to be ancestor. For me, that's the essential
thing, and that's what I am in Druidry for – connecting with all you others who are living
this and honouring our ancestors of spirit in these Isles. The outflow of that living relationship
through inheriting and carrying the ancient wisdom, and acting for justice in this life, are
necessary for living sacredly to be a true connection to the land and its other people. It's why I
describe Druidry to people who ask me as an indigenous culture movement, and why I feel Druidry
reaches beyond any particular way of believing, Pagan or Christian or whatever.
It feels essential to me to be connected to the Land that I live from in
whole-hearted commitment. I can say, I am willing to be the human here in You the Land. Perhaps it
is because so many have gone out from the pattern of accepting being human amongst non-humans,
keeping the balance of resources and space sensitive to the needs of many kinds of beings, that the
overgrowth of human “civilization” has taken over and impoverished so many eco-systems?
This indigenous path smells to me like a way to find a new harmony, a way towards living without
destroying others. I want to learn how to live within a just share of the world’s resources,
and a lot of the clues are there in our histories.
I am living as fully as I can, gathering any wisdom from the past that is
available to me and planting it in my hope for the future. I am holding onto a vision of a good rich
fertile beautiful future, tending that vision and heading towards it. We are coming to the end of
the age of cheap oil. It has fueled our species to achieve technological excesses never seen before,
and it consists of banked energy from the sun: a one-shot resource that won't been seen again for
millions of years. I have been thinking about that as a store of milk. We have suckled from it as an
infant species, we have grown up strong, and now I think we need to wean ourselves. We need to work
out now how use the last of it wisely, to set up sustainable ways of keeping the best of what has
been achieved, and to thoroughly inhabit ways of living peaceably without making war on our own or
other species.
Alice MorningStar, Vine Moon 2004
1. Jean Liedloff, The continuum concept. Arkana, 1989,
ISBN 014019245X
http://www.continuum-concept.org/
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2. David Abram, The spell of the sensuous, Vintage books,
1997 ISBN 0679776397 http://www.whidbey.com/Whidbey_Institute/abram.html,
http://www.primitivism.com/ecology-magic.htm Return to
text
3. John Woolman, Quaker. The journal of John Woolman,
1720-1772. Headley Bros., 1871, Appendix, A word of remembrance and caution to the rich, Section IX,
P290: “May we look upon our treasures, the furniture of our houses, and our garments, and try
whether the seeds of war have any nourishment in these our possessions.”
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4. Daniel Quinn; Ishmael, Sagebrush Education Resources,
1999, ISBN 0613080939 and Beyond civilization, Crown Publications 2000, ISBN 0609805363.
http://www.ishmael.com,
http://www.newtribalventures.com/ntv/whoarewe/ Daniel Quinn has some
infelicities in writing which might irritate, e.g., sexist language, and seems to assume that he is
talking to a singular mid-american monoculture – perhaps he is. But his writing seems useful
to me in some ways. Return to text
5. e.g., “emergy” as developed by the Howard
T., and Elizabeth C. Odum - http://dieoff.org/page170.htm Return to text
6. I’m making an effort in writing this article not
to write using specifically Christian language. Although the understanding for me comes from that
tradition, I am aiming to use inclusive language in order to make what I am saying readable to
people who aren’t comfortable with that language. I am not ignorant of the role of Christian
missionaries in the abuse and degradation of people and land, and of the damage that many people
carry from the experiences with Christian cultures. However, in Christianity I am finding liberation
for myself and a bright stream of sweet water that has led me here. Return to
text
7. Ross Nichols, the Book of Druidry, the Aquarian Press
1990, ISBN 1855381672, P123 Return to text
8. Firinne, telephone conversation during Hazel moon 2004
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9. Walter Wink's Engaging the powers has been especially
useful for me (Christian theology); Augsburg Fortress Publishers, 1992 ISBN 0679776397;
http://www.walterwink.com/studyguide.html, also I love the writings online at
the centre for nonviolent communication: CNVC
http://www.cnvc.org/index.htm
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