Dear ones -

When people are skeptical about “animal guides” or “plant teachers,” part of their criticism usually revolves around the question: “how do you know you’re not just making it up to justify things?”

Answer: You don’t. Not really.

But we humans are meaning-making creatures. And we are observant.

Much of our scientific and academic knowledge pursuits are based around the idea of being an impartial observer. As though we could somehow separate ourselves from the world we are observing. As if we aren’t all innately and intimately interconnected. As if we are somehow a problem or a contamination of Life, rather than a piece of it. As if we don’t belong.

How exhausting, to try and maintain that level of separation between ourselves and our environment. How lonely, too.

Could this be part of our modern epidemic of burnout?

And what might happen if we let our observations of a plant or an animal bring us a message or some wisdom? Would that leave us feeling emptier than we were before? Or more alive?

In my experience, it’s almost always the second.

Today’s podcast episode is an example of how beyond-human kin, science, and folk tales can be teachers and inspire curiosity and insight into how to be alive. 

Note: I’m no scientist, although I feel deep love, wonder and curiosity for the natural world. So please be patient with any misspeaks that may be present in this episode. I’m relating to the natural world in the way most natural to me. It’s not the only way, and it is valid.

I’ve always loved moss and recently I’ve been reading Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book, “Gathering Moss”. So you’ll get to hear my current moss-prompted musings on burnout, feeling somewhere between death and life, surviving, thriving, and little glimmers of nourishment.

Woven in with the book-inspired musings is a synopsis of the old English tale “Mossycoat” - a Cinderella-like story of initiation, but with the magic of moss at the center.

Anything that particularly stood out to you from this episode? Anything you’d like to hear more on? I’d love to hear.

With appreciation,

Kate