Belonging

 When I decided I needed to write about plants, and then chose to do it on a blog, I had a tough time figuring out what the blog should be called. I liked the word "tribe" and imagined a scene where I was admitted by the plant kingdom as an honorary member of their tribe. A little far-fetched, but it was a start. And "green" seemed the obvious modifier. But what else? It was another ah-ha inspiration in Friends Meeting that gave me the word "belonging", and I waited a couple days before I made the final decision to use it. It didn't seem to have anything to do with plants. So why was this word coming up so strongly in my mind? Maybe because when I am out in nature and sitting among plants, I feel that I belong? Maybe because there's a whole world of places where we all belong?

This morning, though, I realize that the word belonging has a much deeper meaning. It has to do with how all of us... plants, animals, rocks, wind... are tied to each other in a vast web of connections and interactions. We are truly not alone. We belong. Although we are indeed small compared to the whole planet, every part of the natural world is connected at a deep unseen level. And that includes us humans. We all together form a whole. Indigenous peoples have known this forever. And many of us have caught glimpses of that wholeness. But our culture here in the developed world tends to see us as disconnected individuals fighting for dominance and survival, even the plants and animals. Especially in the US, where individualism has been the cornerstone of our worldview, our bugle call is to rise to the top of the heap, to succeed and leave the others behind. And that means as a solitary person. Our identity is singular. Even Darwin's findings supported this view: survival of the fittest. You didn't turn to help the person or tree or animal alongside you. Instead, you were preoccupied with your own survival.

Sometimes in the past, science has seemed to have a tendency to dismiss things we know by intuition,  forcing concepts into too-small boxes. But today science is finding that there are indeed tiny beneficial life-supporting connections between living beings of different species in forests, in savannas, prairies, lakes, everywhere. Mother trees in forests help to nurture the small and vulnerable trees, even ones of different species. Tiny microorganisms bind together acres of plant life and make possible all kinds of helpful communication. The natural world is made up of communities of living beings, all responsive to each other, all tied together in a vibrant ecology that builds on its separate parts.  It is an awe-inspiring image, so much more appealing than a bunch of individuals competing with each other. People too are part of these interactive communities even though often we do not sense it.  And we can still learn from our plant and animal neighbors to build lives that are intentionally interconnected with everything else. Cooperation instead of competition seems to be the ticket to a healthier whole.

When I started writing this morning, I had in mind one member of the plant kingdom that is a great example of interconnectivity: borage. I have planted borage for years in my vegetable and herb gardens. It is not that I use this plant. Some folks eat the leaves and they taste somewhat like cucumbers. But in my case, the fuzzy prickles sufficiently detract from the taste to make this a non-starter for my salads. You can also pick the brilliant blue flowers to add to salads, and I have done this occasionally when I want an especially beautiful spread. But the real reason I grow borage is because it makes other plants happy. I do not know why this is. Perhaps someone has done experiments on it and has found that it emits beneficial chemicals in the soil, or lets off an aroma that is helpful. Maybe it feeds other plants via microorganisms underground.  However it happens, somehow borage is a cheerleader for other plants, and they like growing next to it. So for my garden, it's a good friend to have around. And since it seeds itself readily, there is always borage where it has been before. 

There are so many other examples of how separate organisms in the natural world are connected. This is just one. But I'm looking forward to exploring more in upcoming posts. Stay tuned!