I took a wacky class in college that met outside, under the trees.

We would sit on the grass, meditate, and then talk about books. Whatever hippie stereotypes are coming to mind as you imagine such a class are most definitely accurate. There were not many shoes being worn to say the least. It was also, debatably, socialist propaganda. BUT it was also super enlightening and soul enriching and it introduced me to some life-changing reads.

Joanna Macy’s World as Lover, World as Self was one of them.

JOANNA MACY

Macy, a brilliant 93-year-old activist and scholar, uses this book as a platform to share what can essentially be boiled down to one clear message: that our bodies are inextricably connected to the natural world, and we need to start acting like it.

Macy explains that “we try to extricate ourselves and ascend to a higher, immaterial plane…where mind is higher than nature” and that this only feeds “the idea that mind and spirit are separate from the natural world and superior to it”.

It is this illusion of separateness from the earth that is killing our world, for we think that we can somehow go on existing in peace while the earth cries out in agony. We think that we are not one and the same with the state of the world around us, but we are, one and the same. The natural world is only an extension of ourselves.

I know, I know. This sounds a bit preachy. Perhaps even like the opening statement of a cult initiation ceremony. But if you ignore the societal impulse to critique things that make you uncomfortable, then I promise that these are beautiful words worth repeating for all your life.

For the extremeness that seems to accompany Macy’s words is exactly her point. She wants to expose how tragically distant we have traveled from the organic core of our existence. She wants you to feel uncomfortable as she spotlights consumerism as the cornerstone of all our suffering. And she definitely wants all of these things to spark a larger conversation about how we are choosing to exist in the world. So, yeah. Maybe a little cult-like. But also pretty cool.

Macy covers a lot throughout this book, but there is one idea that has been my favorite from the first time I ever came to understand it.

the world as our body

“We have received an inestimable gift. To be alive in this beautiful, self-organizing universe—to participate in the dance of life with senses to perceive it, lungs that breathe it, organs that draw nourishment from it—it is a wonder beyond words.”

“By expanding our self-interest to include other beings in the body of earth, the ecological self also widens our window on time. It enlarges our temporal context, freeing us from identifying our goals and rewards solely in terms of our present lifetime. The life pouring through us, pumping our heart and breathing through our lungs, did not begin at our birth or conception. Like every particle and atom of our bodies, it goes back through time to the first galaxies and stars.”

-Joanna Macy World as Lover, World as Self

This is, by far, my favorite concept to think about. (Mentioned before here when sharing a conversation had by Bill Hayes and Oliver Sacks about the striking similarities between the branches of a tree and the anatomy of the human body.)

I used to be obsessed with astronomy and would listen to all of these nerdy podcasts about the births and deaths of stars and about how nuclear fusion plays into it all. It was there that I first came to understand what Macy is talking about here—that the elements that formed our bones and blood in our mother’s womb are the same elements that were forged in the belly of a star. It’s a short and beautiful poem that our flesh is made of stardust, and that one day, it will all return out to those enigmatic cosmos; the cosmos that we so rarely consider throughout a day in this modern, hectic world.

But what Macy does is especially powerful, for not only does she illuminate the science-backed connections that we share with the universe, but she urges us to broaden our capacity to care away from our immediate circles and out into the grander web of the world.

She points out that, yes, we will die and be forgotten with enough time. But our impact, our footprint in the earth, that can live on based upon where we choose to step. We can practice a deeper love by learning to care for a network of life that is so much larger than we can even begin to imagine. We can take solace in being a part of something that big and indescribable and in doing our share to preserve and nourish it. Or at the very least, not tear it down.

“If you’re afraid to get close to the pain of our world, you’ll be distanced from its joy as well.”

-Joanna Macy World as Lover, World as Self

She acknowledges that, much like with any form of love worth knowing, this radical compassion for the world will break your heart. It will bring endless frustration, anger, and sorrow. Climate change is a beast. (Check out this book if you want to curl up in a ball and cry.) Our world is a mess and it takes a lot of courage to face that. It takes a lot of courage to face anything real. As bell hooks describes here, we learn to avoid situations that have the potential to hurt us. But in doing so, we avoid love. We avoid the whole point of being here at all. We distance ourselves from joy, as Macy puts it.

Laced throughout all of this is an unmistakable sentiment of gratitude. Macy seems to root every one of her teachings in a practice of gratitude, placing awareness and thankfulness at the very core of a meaningful existence.

Gratitude has become a major buzz word, I know. I used to work at a restaurant that was called Café Gratitude, so believe me when I say that I have heard enough of it too. But that doesn’t take away from the real and true, undying importance of carrying it with you every day. My favorite way to to do this is to think in the terms that Macy has provided.

Yes, I am grateful for family and hot water and healthy food. But it is the deeper gratitude that truly pulls me out of the dark; the kind that you feel when looking up at a night sky littered with stars that remind you how small and wonderful you are. In honor of that feeling, I scrawled onto a little sheet of paper an ode that I think about every day. It reads “Thank you life for having me. For forming my bones and pouring my blood. Most days this world feels like light upon my skin.”

This not only reminds me of my connection to the world, but it reminds me that my body is beautiful because it’s a reflection of the universe itself. And that’s a powerful feeling to have in a world that will do anything to separate you from your connection to the earth and convince you that you need to buy a million products in order to be beautiful.

Below is the longer piece that I pulled the aforementioned excerpt from. It’s no coincidence that this epiphany of gratitude for the earth arrived at a time in history when all life stopped and the bare earth was all we had.

[Archived journal entry: January 7, 2020] Thank you life for having me. For forming my bones and pouring my blood. For thick hair and rosy cheeks. For the ability to press bare feet to the earth and walk all over it. For the way that the sun look when she kisses the ocean in the middle of July. For the way that a cool breeze feels against your toes when your feet are pressed to the sky. How that breeze could touch any part of my body and immediately bring me home. For trees because I find them breathtaking. Their branches look just like veins and they each carry a life force through them that nourishes. For the cascading light of the morning and the fading glow of the evening when the whole house seems to exhale in the warm, golden light. For the night sky and it’s constant reminder that our little lives are miracles set against the grand backdrop of something far more vast. For there being something that is so much larger than our understanding of it. For the raw moments of life that bring you to the core of your existence. Because these days are more raw than any I have ever known.

join the fun

Subscribe to give your inbox something to look forward to.