Forest Gratitude Spot Creates Community

 “Ceremony focuses attention so that attention becomes intention,” writes Robin Wall Kimmerer in Braiding Sweetgrass. “Ceremonies transcend the boundaries of the individual and resonate beyond the human realm.” (p. 249)  Kimmerer goes on to say that no doubt there were ceremonies for the land that existed in the countries that the settlers came from but they seem to have become lost and now our ceremonies are all for humans, such as birthdays, anniversaries and graduations.  She encourages us to create new ceremonies to honour the land and reclaim this part of ourselves.

Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer
Indigenous Botanist, University Professor and Author

Inspired by Kimmerer’s words, I wondered what a ceremony could look like for the forest that has been a sanctuary for me during the pandemic.  There are many people  that we see over and over again as we walk the forest trails.  I know many of them only by their dogs or children.  I imagine that they may feel the same way that I do.

A question came to me.  How could we share our gratitude to the forest while being socially distanced?  What might that look like?  The idea of a “Forest Gratitude Spot” came to me.  My partner built a little wooden box with a hinged door to hang on a tree.  I put a small notebook inside with a pencil and invited people to share their gratitude.  It is right beside the river so immediate hand washing is possible.

I wrote on the first two pages of the notebook:  “Over this past year the forest has been a sanctuary for many of us.  We have been free to walk among the trees and beside the river that keeps us healthy.  So, perhaps you would like to take a moment and feel grateful and share that here with all of us in this little notebook.  Gratitude is great for your health too!”

And then, to seed the gratitude, I wrote, “I am grateful for the peacefulness of this forest.  I can hear the Grouse drumming and the Ravens groaking high above.  I forget all my troubles when I am here.”

Then we hung the box on the broken limb of a Grandmother Eastern White Cedar on the bank of the Sturgeon River and waited.

The next day, to my delight, someone had left a message.  It read, “Grateful for the lovely weather, the fish in the river, the sounds of the forest, my beautiful company and a couple of hounds, Louie and Kiba.”

The following day it was rainy but there was another message: “Grateful for the quiet and peaceful water.  We are grateful for our amazing friends and the wonderful memories we make here.”

Below this, I added “So grateful to see the Trilliums and Trout Lilies return again.”

The following words were shared in the little book over the next two days:

"Grateful to live so close to such a beautiful spot.  Grateful to be able to bring my dogs to the river for an off leash walk/swim.  Grateful for the person who showed me this special spot and for the memories it has held and has yet to bring. (Heart)

"It's a beautiful spot.  I love the sound of the river."

"Good trail.  Thumbs up."

I added.  "I am grateful for the strong roots that anchor the trees.  The forest anchors me as well."

So, that’s what has happened in the past five days.  I wonder if this qualifies as a community ceremony.  What actually happens when a person takes the time to be conscious about their gratitude for the forest?  We know from studies that that person will feel better and produce healthy hormones.  What happens when we witness someone else’s gratitude?  Mirror neuron science would suggest that it helps us to feel gratitude as well.  How does feeling grateful affect our actions?  Well, we tend to protect what we value so that could lead to political opinions and actions I suppose. Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “To have agency in the world, ceremonies should be reciprocal co-creations, organic in nature, in which the community creates ceremony and the ceremony creates communities” (p. 250).  I like the idea that ceremony will create community.  I do feel connected to the other people who have written in the book.

 But what does the forest experience when we are grateful for it?  How does it experience this act of reciprocity?  To understand this requires a leap across a chasm for many non-Indigenous people.  Kimmerer writes, “…we act as if loving the land is an internal affair that has no energy outside the confines of our head and heart.” (p. 248)  But, what if loving the land did have an energy that moved outside of ourselves? “Ceremonies transcend the boundaries of the individual and resonate beyond the human realm.  These acts of reverence are powerfully pragmatic.  These are ceremonies that magnify life,” writes Kimmerer (p. 249).  Magnifying life during a pandemic seems like a good idea.

I see this opening of co-creative space as a social experiment, to see what will happen.  I also see it as an art form and I am putting out a call to kindred spirits to co-create a gratitude spot.  It is a ridiculously simple art form in a high tech world but perhaps the medium is the message.  The forest so generously brings us life and health and we simply need to send back that generosity of spirit, that gratitude and dare we say it, our deep collective love for the land.

On the second day of the Forest Gratitude Spot, we met a young couple on the trail.  They asked us how to get to the river.  We told them where to find a trail down to the Sturgeon River from where we currently were.  "But," I added, "the best place in back in the direction that you came from."  They told me where they had parked and I showed them by pointing that they had turned left when they should have turned right.  It is an easy mistake.  They thanked us and continued to the closest path that we showed them first and we continued on our way.  After ten minutes, we were at the crossroads where they had gone the wrong way at the beginning of their walk.  Knowing that they would have to come back to this point to get to their car, I drew the word "RIVER" in the dirt path and added an arrow --> pointing the way.  

The next day, I was at the place of my message in the dirt on my way to the river (and the Forest Gratitude Spot) when I noticed new words scratched into the earth, just below my scratched "RIVER" reading, "THANK YOU!".  I burst out laughing because I knew it was the young couple who had read my message and were grateful.  I was surprised because I had not expected to be thanked.  I was just being a mother-at-large.  It makes me wonder if Mother Earth belly laughs when we show our gratitude to her.  Maybe that laughter is the sudden rustle of the leaves or a burst of bird song or a meadow of flowers.  Maybe that is how it is once we've jumped the chasm.

Robin Wall Kimmerer (2013) Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants. Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions.