“In the outside world, people who are celebrating life events can look forward to receiving presents. In the Potawatomi way, this expectation is turned upside down. It is the honored one who gives the gifts, who piles the blanket high to share good fortune. Wealth among traditional people is measured by having enough to give away. Hoarding the gift, we become constipated with wealth, bloated with possessions.
In a culture of gratitude, everyone knows that gifts will follow the circle of reciprocity and flow back to you again. Both the honor of giving and the humility of receiving are necessary halves of the equation. We dance in a circle, not in a line.
In Potawatomi, we speak of the land as “emingoyak”: that which has been given to us. In English, we speak of the land as “natural resources” or “ecosystem services,” as if the lives of other beings were our property, the earth an open pit mine. We are all bound by a covenant of reciprocity: plant breath for animal breath, winter and summer, predator and prey, grass and fire, night and day, living and dying. Soil and rocks know they are dancing in a continuous giveaway of making, unmaking, and making again the earth.
Our elders say that ceremony is the way we can remember to remember. In the dance of the giveaway, remember that the earth is a gift that we must pass on, just as it came to us. When we forget, the dances we’ll need will be for mourning. For the passing of polar bears, the silence of cranes, for the death of rivers and the memory of snow.
The moral covenant of reciprocity calls us to honor our responsibilities for all we have been given, for all that we have taken. It’s our turn now, long overdue. Let us hold a giveaway for Mother Earth, spread our blankets out for her and pile them high with gifts. Gifts of mind , hands, heart, voice and vision all offered up on behalf of the earth. Whatever our gift, we are called to give it and dance for the renewal of the world. In return for the privilege of breath.”
After all, this is the only home we’ll ever know. It’s where we’re all forever… Earthbound. A belated Happy Earth Week!
In a culture of gratitude, everyone knows that gifts will follow the circle of reciprocity and flow back to you again. Both the honor of giving and the humility of receiving are necessary halves of the equation. We dance in a circle, not in a line.
In Potawatomi, we speak of the land as “emingoyak”: that which has been given to us. In English, we speak of the land as “natural resources” or “ecosystem services,” as if the lives of other beings were our property, the earth an open pit mine. We are all bound by a covenant of reciprocity: plant breath for animal breath, winter and summer, predator and prey, grass and fire, night and day, living and dying. Soil and rocks know they are dancing in a continuous giveaway of making, unmaking, and making again the earth.
Our elders say that ceremony is the way we can remember to remember. In the dance of the giveaway, remember that the earth is a gift that we must pass on, just as it came to us. When we forget, the dances we’ll need will be for mourning. For the passing of polar bears, the silence of cranes, for the death of rivers and the memory of snow.
The moral covenant of reciprocity calls us to honor our responsibilities for all we have been given, for all that we have taken. It’s our turn now, long overdue. Let us hold a giveaway for Mother Earth, spread our blankets out for her and pile them high with gifts. Gifts of mind , hands, heart, voice and vision all offered up on behalf of the earth. Whatever our gift, we are called to give it and dance for the renewal of the world. In return for the privilege of breath.”
After all, this is the only home we’ll ever know. It’s where we’re all forever… Earthbound. A belated Happy Earth Week!
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