The Humility of Coming Down to Earth

 

I recently attended an art exhibition with the theme of Humility.  Anishinaabeg artist Paul Shilling working with the Orillia District Arts Council and three other artists from diverse cultural backgrounds has created seven events on each of the Seven Grandfather Teachings of the Anishinaabeg called A Visual Reconciliation.   These teachings are (in no particular order) Courage, Humility, Truth, Wisdom, Love, Honesty and Respect. 

At the event, the four artists, Ted Fullerton, Julie Tian, Xavier Fernandes and Paul Shilling each spoke about the pieces of art they had created just for this event which focused on Humility.  Then there was space for questions and later a time to mingle and have discussions.  I have older ears and the sound system wasn’t as good as it could be in the gallery space so I missed some of what was said.  However, I did hear some of the questions from the audience and that is what stuck out for me.

Some non-Indigenous participants seemed to be having difficulty with the word humility.  A few spoke about not wanting to “lower themselves” and some explained that they had a strong connection between the words “humility” and “humiliation” and so they had trouble embracing this Grandfather teaching.  Artist Xavier Fernandes said that humility is “not to think less of yourself, but to think of yourself less.”  Some members of the audience hoped that the word humility in Anishinaabemowin wouldn’t mean to lower oneself. 

I came home and did some research.  In the Nishnaabemwin on-line dictionary https://dictionary.nishnaabemwin.atlas-ling.ca/#/help the verb dbasebdiza is defined as “to be humble, think lowly of oneself. From this root comes the word Dabasendizowin or Humility.  On the program for the event, Humility was described in this way: “This teaching brings home that you are a sacred part of creation and allows you to carry your pride with your people and praise the accomplishments of all.  Humility will teach you to find a balance within yourself for all creation.”

I looked up the English word humility in several on-line dictionaries and found the definition “to be humble”.  So I looked up humble and found that it is derived from the Latin word humus meaning ground which later became humilis  which meant low or lowly.  This became humble in Middle English.

The word humiliation is defined as “to make someone feel ashamed or lose respect for himself or herself.”  Perhaps this is an enforced humbling at the hands of another.  No wonder people have an aversion to the word humiliation, I thought.

I pondered these words looking for a way to reconcile these varied points of view that emerged from our shared space.  I frequently describe the dominant worldview of competition and hierarchy by making the shape of a pyramid with my hands.  In this worldview, one is supposed to climb to the top of the pyramid through hard work and seemingly any means available including pushing others down to find space at the tiny top.  In this worldview, “lowering oneself” is a kind of social suicide.  You’ll never get ahead this way in this paradigm.

However, in an Indigenous worldview the interconnectedness of all of life requires a different set of actions.  The Anishinaabeg definition on the event program speaks of “praising the accomplishments of all.”  Instead of climbing on top of people, you are lifting them up.

In the worldview of the pyramid, one gets farther and farther away from the Earth and other life forms, the higher one climbs.  One is less guided by all our other relations that we share Earth with.  So, humility could mean coming back to Earth in order to achieve balance.  Being knocked off the top could be humiliating.  Choosing to lower oneself back to the ground would be humility.

The monotheistic religions speak of God giving man dominion over the Earth and everything on it.  This creates an automatic pyramid.  This basic worldview was then extended to humans in which some humans are higher than others.  Colonization was born from this worldview.  And we all know how this worldview of “dominion over” is threatening life itself.  It is a kind of suicide.

Realizing that we come from the Earth, we are a part of the Earth and coming back to Earth is an act of humility.  Working from our place within the vast interconnectedness of life and sharing our gifts there is also humility.  The predominant pyramid worldview is not sustainable.  We are waking up to that.  The generous sharing of the Grandfather Teachings is a lifeline to us.  It is a model of sustainability that leads to life.

At the event, I observed people engaging and wrestling with worldviews.  I came home and did the same.  Perhaps this is what turning from death to life looks like.

Cosmic Ash Bridges the Circles of Existence

 

Once upon a time, the Ash trees used to tower over the Oaks in the lands of the Celts. They were Fraxinus excelsior or European Ash.  In many European cultures, the Cosmic Ash was a World Tree.  The Norse legends talked about Yggdrasil, the tree of Odin which spans the Universe.  The roots of Yggdrasil were in the underworld, the trunk was in the Earthly realm and the branches supported the heavens. Ash was the bridge that connected them.

 For the Celts, Ash was a Chieftain tree and in the Ogham script, it represented Nuin or the letter N and was the tree of what we now think of as the month of March.   “In Celtic cosmology in particular, Ash connects the three circles of existence – Abred, Gwynedd and Ceugant … or past, present and future.” (Liz and Colin Murray, p. 32)   Once again, Ash provides a bridge or a pathway that connects what appears to be separate.

The Teutons had great reverence for the Ash tree and after the Germanic tribes entered Britain, the Ash replaced the Birch as the maypole and became a symbol of the sun and the phallus of the god round which the “sacred dance of life takes place.” (Jaqueline Memory Paterson, p. 158)

Ash wood is strong and flexible.  Both the words Ash and Fraxinus come from words meaning spear as Ash wood was used for this purpose. Ash wood is also good for making tools, handles, furniture, sports equipment, walking sticks, oars, gates and wheel rims. I’ve seen it used for the gunwales of canoes.  Ash was known as a tree that provided protection and so in Wales and Ireland, all oars and coracle slats were made of Ash to protect those who used them from drowning.  The Vikings made their ships from Oak except for the magical, protective parts which were made of Ash.  The wassail bowl which the Druids used to toast apple trees and the traditional Yule log at the Winter Solstice were both from the wood of the Ash.

Each Ash tree has both the male stamens and female seed vessels.  Once fertilized by wind or insects, the seed vessels form long “keys” that eventually flutter to the ground.  They are called keys because they hang in clumps that resemble key chains.  I like to imagine what these keys may unlock as Ash supports the continuous flow of energy and information between various levels of existence.  As Ash allows us to access these levels within ourselves perhaps the keys unlock hidden rooms and treasure chests.

I was recently listening to Thomas Hubl (https://thomashuebl.com/ ) speak in the Ancestral Healing Journey course that I am taking on-line.  His words made me think of the Cosmic Ash.  Hubl spoke about resourcing ourselves from below, from the Earth and from our ancestors.  He also spoke about resourcing ourselves all around us from the people around us and from the ”we space” of groups that gather for collective healing.  And he spoke of resourcing ourselves from the inspiration and energy that comes from above that seemingly lands in us. 

Beaded Cosmic Ash with the Ogham script for Nuin and three keys

I could picture the Cosmic Ash while he spoke.  I could imagine Ash providing the bridge that I can travel on when I move into the territory of my ancestors to feel into their stories and the trauma that they couldn’t integrate as well as feeling into their resilience.  Ash can provide a pathway for me to bring this information, this wisdom into the present.  Ash can support me as I feel the emotions that were too much for my ancestors and as I digest and integrate this information.  The branches of Ash can act like antennae for inspiration that lands and travels into my body where I can add it to the wisdom from below and take the story further.

Can the Cosmic Ash also help me to understand the Ash Dieback and Emerald Ash Borer insect that is currently resulting in the death of Ash trees?  Ash dieback (Hymenoscyphus fraxineus) is a fungus from Asia that was introduced to Britain about 30 years ago.  Since the European Ash did not evolve alongside this fungus, it is resulting in the death of about 80% of the Ash trees in Britain.  The fungus doesn’t cause much damage to the Manchurian Ash and the Chinese Ash which evolved alongside it.  The Emerald Ash Borer is an insect native to northeastern Asia.  It was introduced to North America and Europe.  The females lay their eggs in the deep crevices of Ash bark and the larvae feed underneath the bark which eventually kills the trees.

Dead White Ash trees are being cut down at the Wye Marsh Wildlife Centre

In Southern Ontario where I live, I have been noticing large stands of White Ash that are dead.  In managed forests, these dead trees have been cut down before they fall down and potentially injure humans.  I wasn’t aware of how much of the forest was Ash until I saw them all lying on the forest floor like broken bones.  Our modern ways of travelling, importing plants and climate change, just to give a few examples are being felt by the Ash trees.  Ash used to be thought of as an axis mundi, a stable point around which the world revolved.  Perhaps, we have lost the connection to nature which acts as our plumb line, our axis and things are flying out of control.  Perhaps the Ash are pointing the way still, as they lie scattered across the forest floors.  The compass needle is spinning as we try to find our way.

I didn't realize how much of the forest was made up of Ash trees until they were cut down.

In believing that we are separate from nature instead of being nature, we have made catastrophic decisions based on the idea of unlimited growth.  The Ash lying around us say that this is not the road to wellbeing.  As I listen to scientists plead for us to wake up, I notice that they get very close to using the word sacred.  But, there is the church/state divide yawning before them like a deep gully.  Scientists are supposed to use only the language of science, not the language of spirituality.  How can they find a bridge across this gap?

This is where, I believe, the ancient wisdom of the Indigenous Peoples of these lands can provide the bridge.  This wisdom remembers that the Earth is sacred and that it should be treated as such.  There is no divide between Indigenous science and spirituality.  They haven’t lost the bridge that non-Indigenous peoples have.  Perhaps for those of us of Celtic ancestry, Ash can provide a bridge between the wisdom of our ancestors and the present moment. Perhaps, honouring those Ash trees that are still living, is a way to connect science and spirituality within ourselves. 

I am imagining the fallen Ash trees that I see, reconfiguring to create bridges over the gullies and gaps, providing us a pathway to find our way back to balance.  I am imagining the Cosmic Ash as a teacher and guide in the work of ancestral healing.  And I am imagining the healing of these ancient traumas and the renewal of the forests.  I am can almost see the Ash trees towering once again.

 Bibliography:

Diana Beresford-Kroeger (2019) To Speak for the Trees. Random House: Canada.

Danu Forest (2014) Celtic Tree Magic: Ogham Lore and Druid Mysteries. Llewellyn Worldwide: Woodbury, Minnesota.

Glennie Kindred, (1997) The Tree Ogham. Glennie Kindred: UK.

Liz and Colin Murray (1988) The Celtic Tree Oracle. Connections Book Publishing: London, UK.

Jacqueline Memory Peterson (1996) Tree Wisdom: The definitive guidebook to the myth, folklore and healing power of Trees. Thorsons: London.

Elen Sentier (2014) Trees of the Goddess. Moon Books: Winchester, UK.

 

The First Day of March

 

My friend offered to drop off some food that she had been given but couldn’t use.  I gratefully accepted but didn’t want her to have to negotiate our difficult driveway and turn around spot.  We agreed that once she was setting off she would call me and I would go out to meet her at the road.

Today is sunny and the temperature is hovering around freezing. It is a gentle day with little wind.  And, it is the first day of March.  It is the kind of day when I believe that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of winter.  I have tried to appreciate each day of winter for what it is and there have been times when I was content with the dark cloudy days and early nights.  But, now it is March.

As I headed out to the road, I noticed tracks in the snow going from our driveway into the park next door.  They had a the kind of tire tread look of  porcupine tracks but they weren’t wide enough.  They probably were made by the groundhog that lives under our shed, I reasoned, out for an amble in the park.  There is still lots of snow but it is collapsing with the warm temperatures.

As I stood on the sidewalk waiting for my friend I gazed at the structure of our Community Garden.  The volunteers had our first zoom meeting this week and the enthusiasm is high.  Lots of ideas were shared and quickly turned into concrete plans for a Seed Swap, Plant Starting Activity for kids at the local library and the Planting Party in May.  As I stood by the garden today, it occurred to me that I should take down the red bows that we put up in December for Christmas.  I should take down the red hearts that I put up for Valentine’s Day.  The snow groundhog that we made has already melted and returned to the snowpack.  The solar coloured lights can probably stay up for a little bit longer.  We kept the garden seasonally decorated during the winter so that it still felt present to the community.

In another month, the snow will likely be gone and our group can meet outside to continue our dreaming and planning.  Earth Day is on a Saturday this year so we plan to have a Digging Day to turn over the manure, compost and straw that was piled on top of the soil in October.  Digging in the Earth for Earth Day seems like a perfect activity.

I have already started some seeds that are slow growers.  I check on the delicate little plants each morning as a gentle entry into gardening season. Other members have plans to start Kale, Pumpkin, Beans and Squash when we get closer to May.  It’s like we are stretching our gardening muscles as we come out of a kind of hibernation.

We got a bit of Maple sap from a few trees two weeks ago when we had a warm spell. I drank a bit of it each day as a spring tonic until it was gone. Soon we will tap the other three trees and make maple syrup once the sap starts to flow again.

Although it could still snow and it will, there is a kind of relief from making it through another winter that seems to come from an ancestral sort of memory.  I was under no threat from cold or starvation and yet I feel grateful to have made it through.

I stood and let the sun shine on my face as I waited for my friend.  It felt good.  I felt at peace as I waited.  I felt grateful for the wonderful experiences we had at the community garden last year and I felt excited about all that we can create together in this coming year. I felt content in that moment.  My friend arrived and we stood and talked for a while.  I thanked her for the food that she was sharing.  This is what we do at the Community Garden, we grow and share food.  This feels ancestral to me, the sharing of food, looking out for one another and nurturing community.  While we seem to be hurtling into an uncertain future I also feel deeply connected to Earth and to the ancestral resiliency that is within me.  And from these places, creativity and new life grow and thrive.  This is what came to me as I stood on the sidewalk waiting, on this, the first day of March.