A large-scale, sociopolitical solution
to global warming and the environmental emergency would be most
welcome now. We can all get frustrated, though, if not heartbroken, with how
slowly top-down solutions work, if at all. And not all of us can find
the time to grow our own food or the money to buy a hybrid car, or even make it out to the farmer's market.
So here's something we can each do (or
not-do) right now that takes no effort at all, and can help build the foundation for the shift of perspective necessary in our
species to help us move forward.
It'll take ten minutes.
Go outdoors, into your yard, or to a
park or bus stop. Sit. If the weather's unbearable you can look out a
window. Look at the nearest bush or tree. Or cactus. Even a weed or patch of grass will do if resources are that limited. Something from
the plant kingdom.
Do not attempt to “quiet your mind.”
Let it chatter on if it wants to. In the midst of any and all
chatter, observe the plant. Ask yourself the following questions:
In what ways has this plant grown? In
other words...
Does it lean? Toward or away from the
morning sun? Toward or away from the afternoon sun? Does it seem to
be reaching for the shade instead?
Is it “legging out,” i.e. does it
have limbs growing peculiarly long and skinny toward the sun or
shade?
Are there “suckers,” or branches
coming up out of the ground around the base of the trunk?
Is the trunk twisted in a certain way?
Is it scarred?
What do the answers to these questions
tell you about the way the plant lives? This requires no magical
powers or intuition – use simple logic. Could the plant be reaching
for something as it grows – sun, shade, water, other nutrients?
Could it be competing with another nearby plant for any of these
resources? Could it be twisting a little every day to reach
somewhere? How could nearby animals, including humans, be affecting
its growth?
How might this plant be growing in the
wild, without human intervention? Would its leaves scrape the ground?
Would animals be eating it? Would it be more dense, or spindlier?
Every plant needs a certain balance of
sun, water, and specific nutrients to thrive, according to its
genetic makeup. A desert cactus may swell up, rot and die with too
much water. A northern vine may hide from the sun if it's too hot and
intense. As well, many desert plants can actually suffer from
sunburn, and some cooler-climate plants like tons of sun. Sun and
water are the biggies, and any question about the health and/or
growth patterns of a plant can usually be answered by some excess or
deficit of one or the other, before even considering things like
nutrients and soil PH. The actual survival of a plant of course also
depends on its tolerance for freezing or excessive heat, and its
natural lifespan, among other factors. But pardon my garden
geeking...
Keep looking at the plant, and consider
what kind of plant it is. Do you know its name? Do you know its
normal habitat? If not, don't sweat it - it's easy to get hung up on
titles and definitions. Plants have individual lives and stories as
well as their genetic predispositions.
Consider the plant's characteristics:
If it's a leafy plant, are the leaves
waxy, fuzzy, large, small? In what pattern do they grow – in rows
or bunches? Are the leaves scrunched closed or splayed wide open? Are
the leaves all alike, or are some different? What color are they? If
green, is it dark, light, dusty? Look closely at the leaf shape.
Could you memorize the way this leaf looks and draw or describe it
later?
Leaves are primarily sunshine
collectors. What do the leaves tell you, logically, about the plant?
Does it want a lot of sun? Does it like to have the sun barely brush
its leaves, and filter through? Is it happy with the sun it's
getting? Might it be getting too much? Too little? What might any
other characteristics, like fuzziness, waxiness, or peculiar shapes
mean?
Look at the trunk and/or branches. Does
it have bark, or is it smooth? Are there thorns? Look at the knots
and places where branches have grown out and fallen off, or been
removed. How has the plant healed from these changes? Is there a
pattern to how the branches grow? Are there dead branches? If you
were a sculptor and could sculpt the exact shape of the trunk, could
you, from memory?
Is there fruit? Are there buds?
Flowers? Where do these grow? How? Observe the details... How might
your plant reproduce? Does it send out shoots that root? Are there
insects? Birds? If so, what are they up to?
How is the weather? Humidity? Is there
impending rain? How might these factors be affecting the plant, right
now?
Is there wind? How does the plant move
in the wind? Take a little time to watch this carefully.
What time of year is it? How could this
be affecting the plant?
What are your other sensory experiences
of the plant? Crush a leaf in your fingers and see if it has a smell.
What does the bark feel like?
If you've been observing the plant this
long, you're probably noticing many characteristics not even
mentioned here. Think about them. Come up with your own questions and
theories.
If you feel like sitting a little bit
longer, allow your imagination to play a little. What would it be
like to be that tree or shrub, standing there day in and day out?
What might its roots be doing right now? How might they be growing,
in relation to the water sources around? What do you have in common
with this plant? What questions would you ask it, if it could speak?
What do you think it would say?
Observe how you feel now.
If you've spent 10 minutes on this
exercise, consider the possibility that you've done a service to the
planet and yourself. Next steps: Do it again tomorrow, or in a week.
Do it throughout the year and observe the seasonal changes. Do it for
years and observe the longer changes. Do it with a variety of plants.
Try it with the whole ecosystem of your yard. Come up with your own
variations.
If repeating this exercise seems like a
chore to you, then don't trouble yourself. Please consider, though,
that there is a wealth of information in a single living form, and
that the longer you spend with a living, changing being, the more you
can learn about life. A tree will teach you more about itself than
any book or nature documentary can, if you take the time to look and
listen. And in taking this small amount of time, you are forming a
relationship with a being from the plant kingdom and helping to
reconnect our species to the web of life from which we've become
alienated, or distracted at best. You are perhaps better equipped
than you were ten minutes ago to deal with large-scale abstract
climate news that can be so overwhelming. You are an ambassador.
