on "grounding" — redux — Knowing Our Place

There's a spot in the land behind my house where I have created a little bit of "pause." A visual clue to the fact that "someone (probably human) was here."

It's four pine cones, back ends together, each tip pointing to one of the four directions. I'd laid the cones on the grass and pushed the fallen pine needles outward from under the cones to create a circular central space. Initially, I'd placed leaves in the center, and I've watched time and the elements collaborate with me on the design.

four pine cones lie on leaf-strewn grass. the ends of the pine cones are touching at the center and the tip of each cone radiates outward, pointing east, south, west, and north. the pine cones are encircled with orange-brown pine needles. a spot of pause

When I come out to this spot—as I try to do every few days, give or take—I spend some time reflecting and appreciating. I thank the earth for taking care of me, providing me everything I need to live. I thank the air I breathe and move through, the fire of the sun that warms me, the water that quenches my thirst, the ground that stabilizes me. I thank the land for nurturing the plants and animals that feed and clothe me, for providing the materials that made my home and the tools I use, and for the fuels that power so many of them.

And then I spend some time connecting. I spend some time just being, or sometimes talking, with our Great Mother Earth, our Pachamama.

I was taught to do this—to intentionally and reverently rebuild my relationship with the land—by decolonial and spiritual healer Dra. Rocío Rosales Meza. Doctora Rocío descends from a line of Xicana/Mexicana curanderas, and apprentices in the Apaza lineage of the Q’ero Inca tradition of indigenous Andean energy medicine.

Dra. Rocío and her teacher Marilu Shinn, with whom I also learn, share the importance of thanking the land, the the place and substance of our birth and our existence—literally. They, and others who graciously share with me their indigenous wisdom, help me to innerstand our earth mother as a living being, some one to respect and listen to, to share with and learn from, and to give back to, not just some thing to extract from and use.

As I spend time with and thinking about our beautiful Mother Earth, this precious blue-and-green sphere spinning within the immeasurable depth of space, I'm struck by the thought that everything we need to survive comes from this tiny planetary body. Everything that sustains us, nurtures us, nourishes us, entertains us, challenges us. Without this Earth we are nothing. There's nowhere else in the universe known to us that can do what the Earth can do.

And, our Mother Earth cannot do these wondrous things alone. She sustains—and we exist—because of the synergy between three celestial bodies: the Sun, this planet, and this planet's Moon. Earth twirls around Sun and Moon twirls around Earth in a cosmic choreography that is vital for our life. Appreciative of their participation, I take time to thank Sun and Moon as well.

I talk to Pachamama, or Great Mother, as Dra. Rocío often calls her—sometimes out loud with words or song, sometimes within my heart and mind—and to Sun and Moon. And when I pay attention to them, when I listen to them—when I listen to the thoughts that come to me when I am together with them in this attentive space—I learn.

My indigenous teachers remind me that there is spirit—the divine spark—in every one and every thing. There is spirit in every human being, and every rock, and tree, and bird. There is spirit in air, and water, and fire, in every mineral, in every element.

My teachers remind me that every thing and every one exists in relationship, just as the earth exists in relationship with the sun and moon. Humans live in relationship with the land, with the animals, with the stars, with each other. Truly, is there anything we do that we can do solely on our own? Even breathing is a relationship between our bodies and the air and the trees.

The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the homes that shelter us, all are created from entities that come from the earth. Vegetables and fruits, nuts and grains, meat and eggs, wool and cotton and silk, and wood. It's easy to see the earthly origin of these entities.

Neither is it difficult to trace the ancestry of some common manufactured materials,¹ such as steel (iron ore + coal (coke) + limestone),² concrete (cement [limestone + clay] + air + water + sand and rocks), and glass (sand + soda ash + limestone).³

And, pretty much everything else—it might not even be an exaggeration to say everything—is a child or grandchild of petroleum, a fuel alchemized from the fossilized remains of ancient organisms.⁴⁵

white text on blue background, list of words in four columns naming everyday products made from fossil fuels energy.gov list of products made from oil and natural gas

Analysis of origins aside, what doesn't come from the earth? Sure, there are moon rocks and the occasional asteroid or meteorite. But, seriously.

Without the earth, moon, and sun, without their perfectly choreographed and performed perpetual cosmic dance, we cannot sustain.

We exist because of what the earth provides, because of what we receive. And what do you know? It just so happens that this earth is the perfect place for us, right? There's nowhere else in the universe—at least that we know of—that has this same life-giving, life-sustaining balance. Coincidence?

Even though we don't yet know, or fully understand, how it all came to be, even if we're not sure whether this delicate balance, the equilibrium of these intricate, multiplicitous ecosystems, was brought about intentionally, we can still feel awe and reverence for what is. Maybe we're in awe because we don't understand. Are we supposed to understand everything? Somehow I think there are phenomena too big to grasp, and that's the way it should be.

So, to circle back:

Every thing and every one exists in relationship, just as the earth exists in relationship with the sun and moon. Humans live in relationship with the land, with the animals, with the stars, with each other.⁶

The point I want to make here is that relationship is connection, that relationship is about balance, or complementarity, and involves reciprocity. Time and again, my teachers emphasize the importance of living in right relationship, actively participating in both giving and receiving. And to sustain the balance of such relationships means taking responsibility for our part in each equation.

When I think of being in relationship with the earth—with all of creation— in this way, I can begin to see that it matters how I behave, how I interact. What we do—as a species, as an individual—affects the earth. Certainly what the earth does affects us as well (and which came first??). It's hard for me to imagine that these causes and effects are not connected, that there's no correlation between what we humans do and how the earth responds.

Spending time outdoors is usually restorative, right? We spend time in the sunshine, or soak up the moonlight and wonder at the stars, witness the wind whip around us, listen to the birds converse, feel the crunch of snow—or leaves or sand or the splash of puddles—beneath our feet. We go outside to absorb the good energy, returning indoors feeling more at ease.

Let's think about this for a moment.

What happened to us out there?

I feel that in moments like these we experience... gifts. I don't mean in the sense that they're extras or freebies, something above and beyond that we didn't earn or pay for or deserve. What I mean is that there is something there that we receive. That feeling of ease, the moment of delight or wonder, or of freshness and freedom. Or the thoughts that came to us through the inspiration of our surroundings.

The land, the earth and its inhabitants, the cosmic bodies, they all share something with us, they share their gifts with us. And, pretty much, just because. Would they have shared if we weren't there? Does a tree make a sound when it falls in a forest if no human is around to hear it? Probably. Do birds sing when no others are near? Yes, indeed!⁷ Do alligators like to listen to music? Unfortunately, not so much.⁸ Viral alligators aside, we humans shouldn't go so far as to think that we're the only ones that can appreciate beauty, and having an audience isn't a prerequisite.

Even so, when we experience something that supports or uplifts or heals or invigorates us in some way, it feels right to acknowledge it, to show appreciation—to respond, to reciprocate—in some way.

Indigenous teachings emphasize—no, not just emphasize, it's stronger than that; they prioritize—gratitude. The land takes care of us, so it is good and honorable to thank and take care of the land in turn, so that the land will continue to provide. We rely on our earth mother to always be there for us, but we can't just take, and take, and take from her. The earth is immensely generous, but even our Great Mother has her limits.

How much better does any one of us feel when we are recognized for something positive we've shared, especially when when we didn't look to be praised, when we weren't planning on it or thinking about it, when we did something because we couldn't not do it? When we participate in such a reciprocal exchange, when we take responsibility for our part, either by expressing gratitude or accepting appreciation, we nurture right relationship, reinforcing a positive feedback loop, regaining balance.

rugged hands lovingly holding an apple gratitude. reverence. appreciation.

It's certainly possible to take a whiff of air, or sun ourselves, or spend time "out in nature" in a way that seems to have no impact either on ourselves or our surroundings. And if the landscape feels more like a backdrop, it's probably because we've been trained to see "nature" in this way, as a stage set with props, adorned with scenery and supporting characters upon which our human lives play out, centered in the spotlight.

It's no wonder that we interact with the earth as a resource from which we can extract whenever and whatever we need or want. The modern societal systems we exist within, including the dominant system of communication (the English language), emphasize objectification and commodification of every thing and every one.

However, if we pause from time to time and let ourselves be present with the ones and things that surround and sustain us—whether by interacting with them physically (feeling the warmth of the sun or watching a tree sway in the wind) or mentally (reflecting on their presence or meaning or merely focusing on and giving our attention to them)—I feel like this allows us a moment of connection with those ones and things that sustains us. And these moments of connection can spark the beginning, or reestablishment, of our reciprocal relationships with the things and ones that enable us to exist and which enrich our lives. When we connect on this level we can honor our symbiotic position within the web of life, and step beyond our extractive conditioning.

And it can start simply. Being present and aware of our surroundings. Appreciating the gifts of creatures and entities we encounter. Saying thank you if we feel so called.

another moment of appreciation for mother earth

So, with my little gifts of pine cones and needles, I mean to say: Hello, Mama Earth, I see you. I am here and I am grateful. Thank you for taking care of me.

And maybe that's all our Great Mother earth is asking us

At least, to start

To notice her. To appreciate her.

To respect her enough to listen to her, to respond to her, to protect her, in sacred reciprocity.

The original version of this article was published on my personal website on March 27, 2025. I have reposted it here with slight tweaks/additions to wording and attributions. However, the meaning and intention remain the same.

↑ 1. Manufacture: from Latin manu, ablative of manus “hand” + factura “a working,”) https://www.etymonline.com/word/manufacture

↑ 2. https://www.steel.org/steel-technology/steel-production/

↑ 3. https://www.vidrala.com/en/vidrala/productive-process/

↑ 4. https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/petroleum/

↑ 5. https://www.energy.gov/sites/prod/files/2019/11/f68/Products%20Made%20From%20Oil%20and%20Natural%20Gas%20Infographic.pdf

↑ 6. This teaching has come to me from many sources while studying indigenous language and doing lots of reading, including: language keeper Jesse Bowman Bruchac and nanawaldagikw (instructors) and co-learners at the School of Abenaki at Middlebury Language Schools; Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book Braiding Sweetgrass; spiritual and decolonial healers Dra. Rocío Rosales Meza and Marilu Shinn; Juliet Diaz; books by Sherri Mitchell, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, and others. I plan to add a page of Resources soon with links to books and sites. But if you check my [Lineage](https://interamnia.io/knowing-our-place/pages/lineage/) page, some mentioned above have already been listed there.

↑ 7. Birds sing for jollies, too! [https://blog.mybirdbuddy.com/post/birds-fun#:~:text=We%20know%20the%20mechanisms%20for,as%20above%2C%20but%20also%20pleasure](https://blog.mybirdbuddy.com/post/birds-fun#:~:text=We%20know%20the%20mechanisms%20for,as%20above%2C%20but%20also%20pleasure.)

↑ 8. Spoiler: they’re just waiting for their food…https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-fV7WfbisQ