Roots…

Tiokasin Ghosthorse often speaks of the strength of the Roots of The Forest. He has such a graceful way of saying so much in very few words…

That isn’t always my strong suit

I woke up, this morning, with these thoughts…

We are all aware of the need for the gathering of people together to get the work done. And, while it is happening—and has been—people have come to imagine the Grassroots efforts as some kind of movement that will triumph over injustice and save the world.

Well, I don’t really believe the world needs saving, Mother Earth will save herself, and ejecting us is likely her best option… But thats another musing…

Grassroots are easily uprooted, you can just stick a shovel in and peel off a whole section of the yard in a single scoop and toss it into the bushes. Sure, they might just reactionary grow there, where they were tossed, and there definitely seems to be a sort of resilience, but grassroots are not particularly strong. No matter how much of an attempt to stay together, the solidarity of conformity is compromised by the lack of a long term, foundation and sound, committed actualization.

Maybe that is why it took me so so so long to begin taking an action role. And likely, why I feel the urge to head back to the cushion and sticking with spirit/energy work.

Grassroots grow together and they are easily ripped apart.

The roots of the forest work together to grow high and wide. The interconnection feels more like grounded foundation than entanglement.

Forests commit to the work. For real… in it for the long haul and it takes far more work to tear down trees with healthy roots, than to mow a lawn.

The thing that most strikes me about grass, is the tenderness of every blade, and here—in Amerika anyway— the Singularity Industrial Complex is working on overtime to make sure that every weak blade of the grass is grappling for their own spot in the lawn—and missing the point of the work.

It is not about position in the yard, who gets to be closest to the most beautiful flower bed, or who sucked up more when the sump pump spewed basement water after the hard rain.

Blades of grass get tangled and trees literally blend where proximity and time meet.

These roots are directly connected to the branches and hold much of the medicine of the forest, a vast ecosystem of varied interdependent perspectives. And the energy of such magic is expressed when we are all strong together, to grow the medicine.

Together in our unique ways.

The collective nourishment continuing to flow until the last tree is standing.

Blades of grass grow, and regenerate fairly easily, but their continuity is in the conformity. Cooperation—do as directed by the mower, sprouting up again and again and again however short the cropping… And, this is resilience for sure, and the grass is valuable, for sure… but the value in grass is most often appreciated in a well manicured lawn and the individual gifts of each blade are lost in the crowd.

I understand the value of a well trimmed yard, but I’d much rather hang out in the forest.

For the forest has no notion of every man for himself.

In the forest,  low lying shrubs, work intimately with beautifully majestic trees, each life regal in its own right—an amalgamation of an intricate system of collaborative energy. Many species, of innumerable complexities, working together to honor eachother for the beauty and breath they bring.

Together. Each being unique in its perspective…

In the past three years I have been impressed, inspired, overwhelmed—seen many stressed consumed and then spit out and most certainly drained by grassroots efforts, organizations and people who subscribe to the finite nature of the way people work within the systems of reaction to being plowed.

I am not sure if this is my world, the grassroots…

I am a forest dweller.

In the forest, every member of the community is seen and honored for its valuable addition.

As members of the forest, we sing together the praises of every tree every blade of grass every winged one and four legged and insect and and and and—all recognizing that we are nourished and regenerated by the changing waters and the rewilding that happens when the roots are nourished by a healthy community….

None of that can be faked on a suburban lawn and a sprinkler.

Don’t get me wrong  I am all for grassroots efforts whatever gets people out and doing something—anything.

But, I am going to sing every tree with the forest and revel in the songs in the bioregional network of rooted foundation…

If I can’t do it I am going to sing from the highest tree and direct you to my fellow rooted being who can. And It is more than ok if its not my brand, not my project, not my effort…

It is my prayer that we can come to a place where we sing the song of the forest’s heart… for it is lonely standing alone amidst the network of suburban lawns, waiting to be mowed.

Again.

I leave you with a song by the beautiful Larkin Grimm…