I writhe beneath your gaze, the fierceness of your black, animal eyes singeing the hair on my body.  The leaves crunch beneath me on the forest floor, my head rests on a bed of moss.  In the darkness I hear small footsteps as little lives scurry past my ears, I hear the insects as they work their way through the soil.  I open my chest to you, offering up my heart and other precious organs.  Suddenly, my mouth is flooded with the taste of iron, your muzzle stained red as I am devoured and fall further into the gentle arms of the Earth.
*

Since the start of this project, I have been surprised to find out how few people are familiar with the concept of animism, so coming up with a sound definition seems like a good place to start. The American Heritage Dictionary of English Language defines animism as “Any of various primitive beliefs whereby natural phenomena and things animate and inanimate are held to possess an innate soul.” To me, that definition is lacking greatly in complexity and is limited by the Western, Judeo Christian framework from which it is derived. Let’s try another definition on for size.

In the book Dark Ecology, author Timothy Morton describes animism as “an awareness of nonhuman agency, consciousness, affect, significance beyond the human.” That’s getting closer, but Morton was just brushing over the concept of animism, so let’s deepen it a bit. Consider this quote from environmental philosopher David Abram, from his book Becoming Animal, ““If we speak of things as inert or inanimate objects, we deny their ability to actively engage and interact with us—we foreclose their capacity to reciprocate our attentions, to draw us into silent dialogue, to inform and instruct us.”

Animism then, in my own words, is an intimate kinship with all life, an acknowledgement that the hierarchical thinking that has led to the illusion that humans are separate from, and superior to, the rest of the world is false. The fact that we cannot fully comprehend the consciousness of that which is not human, doesn’t mean that these other forms of consciousness are in some way inferior to our own. Animistic ways of viewing the world seek to include the human in the web of ecology, rather than remove us. It is attempt of thinking outside the scope of the human lens, by engaging emotional intelligence and metaphoric thinking.  Animism means being an embodied animal in conversation with the sensual world.

And what is meant by conversation here? Here the majority of modern humans suffer from a limited and limiting view of the world. Take for example the relationship between a flower and a bee. Without the bee, the flower would have a very difficult time of reproducing. Without the flower, the bee would likely starve to death. Somewhere within the flower is some spark of energy, that creates visual, olfactory, and electric cues that invite the bee into an exchange. Is this not a conversation?

Likewise, consider the language of birds. Recent studies have found that many species that share ecosystems with birds, seem to have an understanding of their alarm calls. Not only are other birds listening and aware of what is being communicated when a call of alarm rises, but some mammals seem to have an understanding of these calls as well.

To present a more relateable example, who has not experienced, or at the very least witnessed, the way that some humans are capable of conversations with their pets? Body language on both sides of the conversation provide those in the conversation with cues. This speaks to intelligence in both parties. Likewise, when one hears the wind through the leaves information is being shared. When these same leaves drop from the branches in the fall, information is again being shared.

Again consider the word of David Abram, in Becoming Animal, “All things have the capacity for speech — all beings have the ability to communicate something of themselves to other beings. Indeed, what is perception if not the experience of this gregarious, communicative power of things, wherein even ostensibly ‘inert’ objects radiate out of themselves, conveying their shapes, hues, and rhythms to other beings and to us, influencing and informing our breathing bodies though we stand far apart from those things?” Everywhere and at all times, conversations are taking place. All we have to do to participate is listen deeply, with an open heart.

*

Once, I slept as a mountain, dreaming through many thousands of years.  Pieces of me carried South with the water, pieces of me carried North with the wind.  Every cloud and star had a name that left my head upon waking.  The Sun was my day skin and the Moon my night.  Hunters made their homes deep within me.  I was never still but instead the whole of me followed gently and passively the steady tumble of the rest, through the void.

*

Since the advent of agriculture, the dominant narrative of human culture has been one of separation and subjugation. The story goes something like this,  there is that which is human, us, and there is that which is outside of us, other. We refer to this “other” as nature or wilderness. We are taught that nature exists solely for human exploitation and has no inherent value of its own. This is colonization on a global scale.

It is this very illusion, of separation, that has led to the sixth major extinction event and global climate change. This is where the idea of the Anthropocene comes into the picture. As far as we know, this is the first time that a single species has had a global impact on the environment and climate. According to scientists working for the UN Environment Programme, 150-200 species of plant, mammal, bird, and insect go extinct every day. According to a list of figures from the 2010 Climate Change Conference, the global average temperature has risen by 0.74 degrees Celsius, 14 of the hottest years on record have occurred in the last 16 years, and projected temperature rise for the 21st century is 2 to 4 degrees Celsius, which would have incredibly disastrous effects on the biosphere. According to NASA’s Global Climate Change website, there is currently 405.6 tons of carbon dioxide in the Earth’s atmosphere, the global temperature has risen 1.7 degrees Fahrenheit since 1880, the Earth is losing 287 gigatonnes per year, and global sea level is rising by 3.4 millimeters per year. Finally, according to the website savetheamazon.org, rainforests once covered 14% of the Earth’s land surface, today they only cover 6%. Experts estimate that in less than 40 years time, the last of the Earth’s rainforests could be gone. The majority of the cause of these changes is the behavior of one species, and that species is us, humans (Homo sapiens sapiens).

These are bleak figures that are quite overwhelming and traumatic to anyone who tries to make sense of them. It is a fear of this reality that leads to behavior such as climate denial. We have stared into the abyss and found, much to our fright, the abyss is staring back. Even with scientists working night and day to provide us with information to illustrate the very peril facing the biosphere, and therefore the existence of human life on the planet, we seem unable to make any changes. It is as if we are paralyzed by the fear that these overwhelming statistics bring about in us, like prey caught in the gaze of the hunter, we are frozen. However in this scenario, we are both the hunter and the prey.

Perhaps what is needed then is something more than facts. Perhaps what is needed is a shift in the cultural paradigm, a shift away from our consumptive behaviors. To protect something, even from yourself, you must first learn to love it and animistic thinking provides one possible framework that may allow us to move forward in a less destructive manner. By engaging with all forms of consciousness as if they are our equals, there is the potential that we can learn to lessen our impact and self regulate our consumption. If we learn to engage with all other forms of life with a sense of true kinship, we are less likely to carry on with our destructive ways.  If we engage with the Earth with a deeper intimacy, if we were to know the Earth as our lover, we would likely experience a great shifting in our priorities. For if one consumes their lover without considering the consequences, they are left with nothing to love.

*

The winds held us aloft until we had come to the desert. We drifted off to sleep to the strange cries of unfamiliar birds, not quite a caw but something close.  As we slept, the sands scoured our skin away, leaving only bones, the wind making instruments of us as it sang and whistled it’s way through the cage of who we were.  The darkness grew and we were no longer there.  We were the blackness between, a blanket for the stars to rest in.
*
Sources cited:
Figures on extinction. Retrieved April 17, 2017, from http://web.unep.org/
n.d.). Retrieved April 17, 2017, from http://www.savetheamazon.org/rainforeststats.htm
Abram, D. (2011). Becoming animal: an earthly cosmology. New York: Vintage Books.
Donovan, T. (2010, August 17). UN Environment Programme: 200 Species Extinct Every Day, Unlike Anything Since Dinosaurs Disappeared 65 Million Years Ago. Retrieved April 17, 2017, from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/08/17/un-environment-programme-_n_684562.html
Morton, T. (2016). Dark ecology: for a logic of future coexistence. New York: Columbia University Press.