Machine vs. Nature: Is a New Human Flourishing Arising in Minneapolis?
The Serviceberry is calling... and the jury is still out on how we'll collectively answer
Most of us have been living many decades already. We’ve been repeatedly trained, again and again, about this human life and how to live it — in ways both intentional and more like osmosis, where we soak up the dominant undercurrents all around us. Would you say you live more like a machine… or nature? My guess is you have an inkling of your answer.
But let’s explore this more together….
For You: Today’s Main Course
Our neighbors’ maple tree is already budding out — bright red beacons appearing along every branch, bringing the happy message:
Spring is here! Spring is here!
I remember the year the tree was planted. Our previous neighbors, who have since moved on, got the tree one springtime… and we saw them out there in the yard, sweating and throwing dirt, as they prepared its new home and gradually settled it in. They had already lived in the house for decades, by that point… but something made them finally want to bring shade into that spot in their front yard.
A year later, we planted our own maple, just a few feet away from theirs, a different variety but still obviously in the same family.
I often think of their tree is the big sister of ours.
Not only will she always be a year ahead in her growth, just that much bigger than our tree, but she is always the very first tree to bud in the springtime, almost as if she’s leading the way for our maple, telling her it’s OK and it’s time. She seems to own her “big sis” role in that way, much like I’ve often embodied it myself, over the years.
Our former neighbor Nancy always used to joke that we should string a hammock between the two trees, since they’re just about the right distance from each other for that. We have yet to do that. But I’d still like to someday.
Swinging in the breeze, between two beautiful trees? Looking up at the spots of blue sky peeking through their branches? Swaying back and forth slowly? Lulled to sleep by the gentle in-breaths and out-breaths of our Mother Earth? Sign me up.
I love hammocks, in general.
But I especially love the way they literally attach us to the natural world, almost re-weaving a connection that for many of us has been long-ago severed, and shifting our relationship with that world to a hard-to-miss, honest dependency.
Most of us eschew dependency, these days.
Our dominant culture, I’d say worldwide but especially here in the United States, teaches us, again and again, that to be independent — fully self-sufficient; ideally “owning” property; not asking or needing anything from anybody; “pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps” — is the way we’re supposed to be.
Even more, our dominant culture trains us to operate like machines:
Feeling some weakness like a sore foot or knee? Or just feeling tired? Push through it. Keep going. Grin through the pain or exhaustion. Even better, ignore it.
Open spot on the calendar? That can be filled. The fewer empty spots, the better. An ideal day is one that moves from thing to thing, without any down time (which is essentially a synonym for “unproductive time,” the ultimate no-no).
Sick? You can still work. You should, in fact! Unless you are just so totally down-and-out that you can’t be vertical. And sometimes, even then, you should work from bed, if you really feel like bed is where you absolutely need to be.
Things that you start should just keep going and going and going. Endings are anathema. Growth is good. Constant growth is the way you know you’re succeeding. Growth without end is the only way to avoid failure… and failure is the ultimate thing to avoid, at all costs.
All of our human stories (reflecting our orientation to these lives of ours) start with a beginning/past… followed by a middle/present… and orienting to a future that is somewhere “out there.” We see our lives as existing on a linear timeline.
But we aren’t machines.
We are nature.
We don’t live in the natural world.
We are the natural world.
And have you noticed? The natural world has none of those characteristics or orientations listed above. Instead:
All beings in the natural world rest. Winter is one long hibernation for multitudes of plant and animal species and, even outside of winter, creatures living in the natural world rest every night, as soon as the sun tells them to by disappearing below the horizon. There is no “pushing through,” no foregoing rest because there’s just “too much work to do,” no overriding natural rhythms.
In the natural world, sometimes it’s time to just lay in the grass. Or sing. Or play tag with a friend (the squirrels in our yard love this one). Or take a nap. Days are definitely not go-go-go. In fact, the primary purpose of most every day is to just live into one’s most essential self, expressing exactly who one was created to be.
Nothing in the natural world has unlimited growth — nothing, that is, except for cancer cells, and I wouldn’t exactly call those something we should want to emulate.
Time is cyclical, in the natural world. The past… and the present… and the future have all existed, and will exist… here. Days are cycles. As are weeks. As are years. The progression of time is one cycle after another, all circling the same ground.
According to these cycles, endings are natural. Endings are expected. Endings are as essential as beginnings — one consistently leading to the other, endings fertilizing and powering new life, again and again.
The natural world is a beautiful symphony of interdependence, each being having its essential part to play for the whole, each individual creature embedded within a harmonious, repeating web of mutuality — rendering them both dedicated to the thriving of, and dependent on, other members of that web.
We are nature.
But we don’t live that way.
Usually.
I’ve just finished Robin Wall Kimmerer’s lovely book, The Serviceberry, which masterfully lays out the vision of how different our human world would be, if we lived in it the same way our natural-world relatives do — in a constantly giving-and-receiving network of mutuality and interdependence, a “gift economy” that thrives on generosity, where no one ever has to wonder if they’ll have enough.
At a book club discussion last night, I reflected with my fellow members of the Minneapolis community about how differently this book read to us, after what we had recently been through together.
Believing that we could live this way as humans would have seemed completely “Pollyanna-ish” before, one member said. But after the past few months? No more.
We have all seen, we have all lived — in real time, in the most tangible and practical ways — being integral members of a thriving network of mutuality. Giving and receiving like breathing in and out. Generosity with no limit. Understanding that a threat to one of us is a threat to all. And relatedly, understanding that all thriving is mutual… and that we must accordingly seek mutual thriving.
We talked about how this kind of response tends to naturally arise among us humans when there is a massive trauma or threat.
Certainly, that was the case here.
We are aware of this.
And we are all discussing, now, how we maintain this whole new world that we’ve begun shaping together.
How do we sustain our interdependence?
How do we continue to root into our networks of mutuality?
How do we find sustainable ways to continue transforming our culture with each other, from dominance to integration… from competition to cooperation… from individual success to collective thriving… from living like machines… to living like the inherent parts of the natural world that we are?
We’ve all seen the better way, the more natural way.
We’ve lived it.
The struggle is in the fact that the world around us wants to force us to keep playing off of the same script we’ve always been running.
We want better for ourselves.
Don’t you too?
How can we commit — together — to rewriting the script we’re all running, to refusing to mindlessly enact our conditioning, to rising up in full consciousness of who we are… and how we were created to be?
Community-Weaving for Fundraisers
Now is the time to reach out and connect with others. Life doesn’t have to be so hard. Your community is waiting for you! Advice when you need it. Been-there, done-thats. Commiseration. Support. A place to vent. Guidance and mentoring.
All of this, and more, is what I anticipate happening at Community-Weaving for Fundraisers. Just community-based fundraisers. Gathering for (virtual) lunch together. Twice a month. Year-round. Chatting and supporting each other via WhatsApp in between lunches. Being there for each other.
All you need to do is show up, be present… while I guide, facilitate, organize, and create the container.
Conversation: Your Response
Got more to say? Visit the comments section!
On-Demand Philanthropy Coaching
I know there are a lot of y’all fundraising these days (for mutual aid) that haven’t ever done this before. Would you like some help? Guidance? Support? From a social worker (MSW) and Certified Fundraising Executive (CFRE) who’s been doing this for almost two decades?
Sign up for an on-demand coaching session with me. Three lengths available to fit your needs (.5 hr | 1 hr | 1.5 hr).
50% of revenue will go straight to rent relief for our neighbors. The rest will provide me a bit of income. And you? You’ll be WELL on your way to fundraising better... and more of our neighbors will have their needs met through your increased skill.
Win-win-win... WIN!
PS: Note, this is a regular service I offer to professional fundraisers, so the wording on the webpage linked above may not seem to speak to you, if you’re a newbie fundraiser. No worries. I’ll meet you where you are.
PPS: As I said above, this service is, historically, primarily focused on PROFESSIONAL fundraisers... so if that’s you, I encourage you to jump on this win-win-win offer too!
Practice: Make It Yours
Go outside.
Just be.
Breathe deeply. Notice. Look. Listen. Smell. Taste. Touch. What is your body picking up, through its five senses, from the natural world around it?
No screens. No music. No conversation.
Just be.
Just be with.
Be with your relatives.
And notice what messages they may be giving you….
Inspiration: Wisdom to Mull Over
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