“Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift. Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate.” —Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass
Hello Lovelies—
Buckets of gratitude for reading A Woman’s Place Is In the Wild. I appreciate all of you who support these weekly meditations. I have been inspired by Stephanie Land who writes compellingly about getting paid for the words we put out into the world and for the work we do, particularly as women. So I’m asking you, if you can afford it. to please subscribe (for as little as $6/mo). Your financial support of the writing I am doing here helps me keep the lights on. I appreciate it.
The rain returned to the mountain this week on Earth Day.
As my mind rambles over the thousand things I have to do, I suddenly look out the window and up the hill to the west. A softly shimmering curtain falls, the late afternoon light illuminating air. The shower is brief—no more than a sprinkle, a benediction, but the air has that fresh rain scent, the good loamy smell of dirt, and I can almost feel the earth open up to receive the blessing of water.
I receive it too. It is a both a reminder and a promise. Every day is a small miracle. Each moment holds a bit of magic. If we pay attention, we complete the loop: We give back the joy we get from the living planet.
In celebration, I dig out the hummingbird feeders stored over the long winter in the basement, fill two of them, and put them out. It’s more than a week early, but the sudden warming on the mountain (after a foot of snow last weekend) has me both giddy and hopeful.
Today is Earth Day.
I remember to hold the earth that holds me so magnificently. So, I walk outside to look at the yellow and purple crocus blooming off the deck. Nearby, melting snow reveals the greening base of columbine. A newly emerged chipmunk runs between roots and still-dead grasses.
I have always loved this practice of paying attention to the changes in the landscape, of noticing the world outside. Keeping track keeps me rooted to this moment in time and to this place. It also reminds me to be thankful, which is a kind of kind of prayer.
Sometimes I worry that I am not doing enough for the earth. Shouldn’t I be protesting and letter writing, soap-boxing and barn-storming? Like most of the folx I know, I donate and promote, I read and teach and discuss.
But is it enough?
Last week I meditated on gathering beauty, writing that “my purpose is beauty, even in the most difficult times.” I want to believe that my attention matters—to the earth, especially—that my words somehow strengthen the net of wonder in this impossibly beautiful world. I had a card from the writer Linda Hogan a few weeks ago in which she mentioned “deeply being deliberating about [our] responsibility to life.” According to her, being gives us “presence” in our work, our life, and our teaching.
This is being is how I want to be, what I want to embody.
Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate.
In celebration of Earth Day, I offer two writers who hold the earth.
First is Linda Hogan’s Dwellings: A Spiritual History of the Living World, a collection of essays about the sentient world told in Linda’s lyric prose. For poets, I recommend, A History of Kindness and The Book of Medicines and Linda’s most recent collection of essays, The Radiant Lives of Animals.
Next is a new essay by my colleague Ana Maria Spagna, “Yes, And . . . Talking Wings, Queer Ecologies and the Rights of Rivers,” that finds hope in this new generation of young folx and had me thinking about much promise there is in the queering our ecologies.
Happy Earth Day and Happy Reading.
Thank you for reading.
Big love,
Karen
Please click the heart if you appreciate this post and of course, feel free to restack or share with friends. If you can afford it, please consider supporting my work by becoming a paid subscriber.
Upcoming Events
Mountain Words Literary Festival
May 24-26th, Crested Butte, CO
Story Catcher Writing Retreat
June 4-7, Gunnison, CO
Lighthouse Lit Fest
The Burning Heart: Finding Energy in your Short Fiction
Saturday June 8th, 1:30-3:30MT VIA ZOOM
$85
Homing In: Uncovering the Arc of your Memoir
Sunday, June 9th, 9:00-11:00MT VIA ZOOM
$85
Truth or Dare: Writing Family Stories
Wednesday, June 12th, 4:00-6:00MT VIA ZOOM
$85
Writing Wild with Karen Auvinen
Sunday, June 24th 10-3pm
Rollinsville, CO
Register by May 31st - $125
After May 31st -$150
Writing Wild with Karen Auvinen
Sunday, August 4th 10-3pm
Rollinsville, CO
Register by May 31st - $125
After May 31st -$150
Living Wild Writing & Creativity Prompts
The next Living Wild Writing & Creativity prompt comes out Saturday. Paid subscribers have access to the full archive of Living Wild Writing & Creativity Prompts (look for the fox pictures on my home page) which come out biweekly.
A Woman’s Place is in the Wild is a reader-supported weekly meditation on all things wild. Both free and paid subscriptions are available. If you would like to support my work and these weekly posts, the best way is by becoming a paid subscriber, which gives you access to the full archive of weekly Living Wild Meditations plus all of the Living Wild creativity and writing prompts. If you want to read more, check out Rough Beauty: Forty Seasons of Mountain Living.
"the net of wonder" Yes