What are we? How did we get here? What is our purpose? These are the fundamental questions questions that people devote lifetimes seeking answers. The questions that people declare war for. Taking these questions further, who is “we” and how does our purpose guide our action? By defining “we” as encompassing all living things in the universe, from humans to animals to insects to grass to trees and so on, the questions seem to shift. How did living things become living? How should living things behave? And what do the relationships between these living things look like?
It’s summer 2004; Disney’s Mambo #5 is playing through the stereo, the sun is beating down on the cement pit that is soon to be a swimming pool, the forgotten inflatable kiddie pool is now a mosquito breeding ground, and the fencing people are placing little pink flags in the ground to mark the area soon to be enclosed. Next to one of the little pink flags an interesting weed slowly peeks out from the ground. The fencing guys begin to rip it from the earth, but my dad steps in and asks them to move the fence boundaries away from this volunteer plant. This little guy quickly springs up like a weed, growing taller and taller each year. Native plants try to grow next to him, but this volunteer sucks up the limited water. Little families of bunnies and toads cohabitate in the rare soft soil around his roots. This volunteer has been living like water. It has provided for a home and shelter for various species, it has cleansed the acidic, clay soil, it has provided thornless homes for birds (Lao Tzu, Verse 8).
Scholars devote their whole lives seeking an answer for “How does the world behave?”. They study everything from ancient text to modern philosophy, however, often one major source of information is missing: going outside and just observing the world. I have spent a day in the same spot of White Clay Creek State park for two hours for the past thirteen weeks. This observation barely scratches the surface of this question. I’ve seen this little patch of forest through three Nor’easters, heavy rain, warm clear skies, sticky humid days, and everything in between. I’ve witnessed life emerge from empty, cold spaces, and I’ve seen invasive bittersweet choke out the life of trees, retiring them to the river bed. The universe is an interdependent dichotomy. Everything has a contrast, but could not exist without the contrast. This is the very first concept introduced in Toa:
Life and death are born together,
Difficult and easy
High and low –
all these exist together (Verse 1)
Without life, there is no death. Without hardship, there is no smooth sailing. While this sounds very dualistic, nothing is one hundred percent anything. “When the opposing forces unite within, there comes a power abundant in its giving and unerring in its effect” (Lao Tzu, Verse 28). The world exists as a system of interdependent relationships between all living things.
Its summer 2009; the Black Eye Peas and Drake are bopping out of the iHome; the concrete pit is now a refreshing chlorinated pool, Biscuit the golden Cairn Terrier chases everything from rats to water splashing out of the pool; toddler Will plays with his Thomas the Tank trains in the shade. The volunteer plant is now six feet tall, giving shady relief from the hot sun to both Will and Biscuit. Our toad friends have moved across the yard to the even softer soil in the herb garden. Biscuit has scared the rabbits away from the volunteer, and now they habituate, with great annoyance from my father, in the vegetable garden. The volunteer is beginning to resemble a tree of some sort, it looks different from the thorny mesquite trees that are scattered throughout the yard. It is clearly not a Crepe Myrtle, but it is steadily growing and providing some much needed shade coverage.
The world is made up of the interlocking relationships, but what happens when humans attempt to change the relationships. We dam rivers, changing the normal flow of water and shifting marine migrations. We develop on flood plains and pretend to be shocked when it floods, damaging all the buildings. We chop down rainforest, driving species of frogs to extinction. We attempt to control the natural world. Humans behave as the world is here for them to control.
The Mississippi River is naturally trying to shift and flow into the Atchafalaya River. If this were to happen, the Mississippi River Delta would be gone, leaving New Orleans obsolete. The Army Corps of Engineers has devised a plan; build strong enough levees and the river will bounce off the levee and continue its current flow pattern. “It is important that no water be allowed to escape the river, because its full power would be most effective in scouring the bed, deepening the channel, increasing velocity, lowering stages, and preventing destructive floods.” (McPhee, 41). This is the philosophy of the Army Corps of Engineers, and their reasoning for playing God in the natural world. While the reasoning is preventing flooding, levees break. Hurricane Katrina proved that and the very city they are protecting is still suffering the consequences of a broken levee. Eventually the Atchafalaya levees are going to break, creating devastating floods that, after some time, will recede and give a new path to the great Mississippi River.
This is human ingenuity at its finest. Because of the madness gene, we are restless; constantly exploring and creating the latest technological advancements. We over consume, thinking of solutions once the problem is irreversible. During my time in the woods, I observed basic disconnects from the natural world. Beer cans littered the forest floor, smokers would throw the butts of their cigarettes into the river; it was assumed that the state park was there to serve the visitors. Humans behave like the world is here to serve them. If I recycle paper, then I can drive a huge SUV and run the air conditioning in my house year round. I do not need to know how sustainable my produce is because at least I’m eating fruit and not McDonalds. We can over consume because Elon Musk is going to colonize Mars.
This is how many humans choose to behave, however, it is not how we are intended to act. Through observations in White Clay Creek State Park, I have seen example of how humans can begin to act with nature. On one particularly cold March Saturday, I feel a desire to explore this uprooted tree. I step on the icy bank, hear a subtle crack, and then next thing I know, I’m calve deep in ice mud. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank. Eventually I stood still, grabbed the roots of the tree, and every so carefully, moved my foot with the mud. Fighting the natural flow of the earth, I quickly sank, but as soon as I took a deep breath and moved with the flow, I was easily able to leave the cold, icy mud. This is how humans should behave; moving with the natural flow of the world. Lao Tzu discusses this concept of “wei wu wei” or action without action. I prefer the translation of action without thought. This is how humans should behave. Humans should “act without action, and teach without talking” (Lao Tzu, Verse 2). This is how the Sage acts, and in turn, how humans should try to act. When getting out of the mud, I acted without force and was easily able to free myself. In Braiding Sweetgrass Robin Kimmer discusses being feeling connected to water. Both Kimmer and water provide life and nurture life, they are a beneficial force. Verse 8 of the Tao Te Ching reads:
The best way to live
Is to be like water
For water benefits all things
And goes against none of them
It provides for all people
And even cleanses those places
A man is loath to go
In this way it is just like Tao
On the canoe trip, we were able to observe how water had slowly carved through massive million-year old rocks, revealing truly awesome spacious carvings. Water is the epitome of action without action; it slowly moves along, providing, nourishing, and slowly changing things.
It’s the beginning of summer 2018. Drake and Lorde are bopping from the guitar amp, Luther, the big Great Dane – Jack Russell Terrier mutt, has taken over Biscuit’s role of water chaser and bunny terrorizer, Roosevelt, the tiny white mutt, sleeps in the shade, Will the teenager sleeps on the giant pink flamingo in the pool, and the toads have now claimed the entire pool area as their own. The volunteer is now towering over the pool area, providing the much needed shade in the day time, and, with the help of some outdoor Christmas lights, provides a warm, welcoming aesthetic at night. We have recently identified our volunteer as an American Elm. We speculate that some bird left a nice dropping that contained his seed, gifting us with a huge shade tree that grows higher and higher every year.
Action without thought, that is how humans should behave. We let nature do it’s thing in my backyard and now have a bountiful shade tree. The tree houses birds, an occasional wasp nest (which takes care of the Black Widows that love the pool area), the toads love the soil below the tree, little critters are constantly hanging out around our volunteer. Just like the toads, dogs, cat, and barn swallows, the American Elm is part of our family. We water him, trim his injured limbs after storms, and literally moved a fence to give him more space. We, all living things, should live like water; benefitting all things.