Kin

I continually find myself in awe of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s writing. My husband chuckled at me the other day as I was reading Gathering Moss by Kimmerer and questioned why I was reading a book about moss. I told him he would understand if he read her poetic work and got drawn into the beautiful, captivating balance Kimmerer has of being pointedly informative while still crafting a story that feels a far cry from the dull textbooks that share similar information.

However, lately, her work has not only been comforting due to its style and my admiration of her craftsmanship, but also because of the lessons it conveys.

In a world that often feels dark and heavy, and sometimes irreparably so, connection can feel daunting. We are wired for it; we need to have it, but sometimes the fear, overwhelm, and stress of interacting with a person override the necessity of having it.

The good news is that there are other options.

Kimmerer, a native American whose native language is Anishinaabe, says in her essay in the Nature Loves Medicine book that an elder guided her to the word Bmaadiziaki when discussing the living world around us. Kimmerer wondered if part of what weighs us down in our day-to-day lives is our lack of connection with nature, referring to plants as “it” and never taking the time to learn their names. And, while Bmaadiziaki may be challenging to incorporate into our everyday conversations, we can utilize the last sound of it, “ki” for singular use or “kin” for a plural form. Reminding us that every time we speak of the living world, we speak of kinship, of relatedness, of family.

And what’s wonderful is that far more often than not, nature is right there. The trees in our yard, the plants growing along our house, the landscaping in parks, and the plants that go by us on our drives. It’s right there, waiting for us to get to know ki and really see ki.

I’ve found that as I sit with the nature around me, I often expect it to be a one-sided conversation, but far more often than not, kin speaks back to me—messages of calm, serenity, gratitude, and peace. Messages I find I desperately want to get from people, too, but sometimes I need to get it from Earth first, before I find the courage to face humanity again.

So, if the darkness of the world feels too overwhelming, may you search the nature around you. And may you find kin will likely help you build the courage you need to keep going out and seeking the goodness in the world, too.