My Whole World

Earth. The place I call home. The place we all call home. 

I’ve had the opportunity to grow up in many places: the beach, the hills, and the mountains. I’ve lived where the ground is dirt, clay, and sand. I think because of that I cannot consider myself indigenous to one place; I must consider myself indigenous to all of Earth. Not any brick, wood, or cement structure. Indigenous to the trees, soil, and sky. They are my home. They are in my soul. 

I grew up on Earth - no different from anyone else- and it’s always been a part of me and my life. Whether I was running barefoot in the dirt, pretending the trees were moving, breathing things. Even lying in tall grass, reading a book on a sunny afternoon in August, or just sitting on the ground and looking up at the sky. Nature has been entwined with me since a young age. As a child, I stayed at my grandparent’s house a lot. If I got bored, it was never cartoons or technology. It was sitting on the front porch swing outside with my grandma, talking about the mountains in the distance or the bees buzzing around us.  It was walking around the yard with my grandpa and collecting rocks or woodworking with trees from their property on the warm cracked pavement. Earth has always been there for me.  It’s made me pay attention more because I’ve learned that you may miss something miraculous if you don’t. It’s made me use my imagination and it’s challenged me to think deeper. It’s given me peace in times of struggle and connection in times of loneliness.

Nature is all around me. I don’t live in the city or near one. I’m surrounded by tall mountains reaching for the skies. Some mornings, I can look out my window and see a mother deer with her fawns searching for safety or a black bear walking down the road looking for scraps. During the spring and summer, I can see falcons in the sky. In my backyard, I get to rest on a rock that has been sitting in that same spot for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years, long before we were here. I notice when I go into the city, I’m looking for home. I’m looking for nature in those modern landscapes, not at the tall buildings cascading across the sky. I’m always looking for Mother Nature in my life. 

My deep-rooted connection with nature has made me curious about other cultures and how they view nature. Learning about cultures has made me more connected with people and has taught me lessons I couldn’t have learned any other way. It’s taught me that just because something is different doesn’t mean it’s scary or bad. It’s taught me not everyone thinks about things the same way and that’s okay, it’s what makes them who they are. I’ve learned that nature is vital to people’s lives and stories in many cultures. Their waters represent gods, goddesses, and deities. Their seasons represent stories passed down for generations. To them, nature is their life, a gift from the heavens. 

But we’re losing our home. Deforestation, increased wildfires, pollution in the oceans and skies are killing the only place we can all call home. By losing nature, wildlife, and biodiversity, are we also not losing our lessons of connection? One that is already so distant from most of the world. By losing these aspects of nature we lose our connection with it and the knowledge it provides us, not only of itself but of ourselves and each other. Nature teaches us many things. Nature teaches us that there is peace and there is chaos, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less beautiful or unique.

Painting: Dream by Joan Brull

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