I was tired and worn down by the relentless stream of conflict, cruelty, greed and division – much of it created or perpetuated by flawed leaders pursuing power rather than wisdom. I cared deeply, but caring had begun to consume me.
Then Anjali, a dear friend and wise Elder suggested I reread Ken Carey’s The Starseed Transmissions. I’m so pleased I did. Its words reminded me to lift my gaze beyond the turbulence of the moment and return to a deeper centre within myself – to peace, perspective, purpose and, unexpectedly, joy.
Now I’m reading Robin Wall Kimmerer’s beautiful Braiding Sweetgrass, with its invitation to rediscover reciprocity, gratitude and our sacred relationship with the living Earth.
Perhaps there is wisdom in recognising when we have absorbed enough of the world’s distress.
We do not have to stop caring. We do not have to become indifferent to suffering or injustice. But neither do we serve the world by allowing its turmoil to colonise our consciousness.
Sometimes the most life-giving response is to turn towards what restores us – a wise book, a tree, a garden, birdsong, meditation, friendship, beauty, gratitude, silence.
There will always be voices demanding our outrage and attention. We can choose which ones enter the sanctuary of our minds.
I am remembering that protecting our inner peace is not withdrawing from the world.
It is tending the place from which we meet it.
And perhaps a peaceful, loving, centred human being is one of the quiet medicines our troubled world needs most.
Less attention captured by the noise-makers.
More attention given to the wisdom-makers.
More Earth. More mystery. More consciousness. More beauty.
More of what enlarges rather than depletes us.
~ Cedar
Her later books are The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World (2024) - A short book, illustrated by John Burgoyne, on gift economies, reciprocity, and what serviceberry trees teach about sharing abundance instead of assuming scarcity.
Bud Finds Her Gift (2025) - A children’s picture book, illustrated by Naoko Stoop, about discovering one’s gifts through relationship with the living world.
AI says: Robin Wall Kimmerer’s 'grammar of animacy' is her name for a way of speaking—and therefore of seeing—drawn from Potawatomi (Anishinaabe) language. It is developed most fully in the chapter “Learning the Grammar of Animacy” in Braiding Sweetgrass.
What the grammar actually does
Potawatomi does not sort the world into 'he/she' versus 'it.' It sorts it into animate and inanimate.Animate beings include not only plants and animals but rocks, mountains, water, fire, places, medicines, songs, drums, and stories. Human-made objects (a table, a machine) are more often inanimate. You ask of a table 'What is it?' You ask of an apple 'Who is that being?' The animate verb 'to be' is yawe.
Calling a maple or a river 'it,' she argues, is like calling your grandmother “it.” It strips personhood and makes exploitation easier: 'When Sugar Maple is an ‘it’ we give ourselves permission to pick up the saw.'
The English experiment: ki and kin - Because English forces a choice between human pronouns and 'it,' Kimmerer proposed new pronouns, developed with an elder and language teacher: ki (singular) — a being of the living earth, from aki / bemaadiziiaaki 'earth being' .... kin (plural) — earthly relatives.
Examples she gives: 'That beautiful tree, ki is giving us sap again this spring.' 'Look, kin are flying south for the winter.' Keep 'it' for paperclips and bulldozers.
She is explicit that this is not anthropomorphism. It is recognition: plants have plant intelligence and plant personhood, not human traits pasted onto them.
Why it matters to her
For Kimmerer the grammar is ethical and ecological. Language charts relationship. If other beings are kin rather than resources, gratitude, reciprocity, and restraint follow more naturally. She pairs this Indigenous grammar with scientific seeing rather than discarding science; she wants to be 'bilingual' between the lexicon of biology and the grammar of animacy.