Every day I try to reflect about my actions, and ask myself: how can I be a cooperative Earth creature?
Pandemic realities have truly tested this reflection, as loved ones are swept away from us, and we hold others perhaps closer than before. Perhaps these times have disappointed us, disillusioned us, made us feel farther apart. It has been different for everyone, but one thing I have seen is that,
Human people are tired and challenged by being human right now.
I have been reflecting upon how much humans want to be safe and comfortable. All creatures want this: to be safe, to be comfortable, to be what they are, and live how they like to live…but when do these desires and wants create community, and when do they create oppositional behavior? I discuss the concept of Utopia in my book, and how that word originally meant “happy place,” but that another interpretation is that it means an ideal place that doesn’t exist.
Utopia, on a planet with an estimated 15 million species, would be difficult to define. Even within our species, utopia means something different to everyone. For frog species that number about 2000 , utopia would be different depending upon your region—they might agree that they like things to be fairly wet. Bird species, numbering about 18,000, are extremely varied in their happy places.
Every creature within every species has its creaturely happy place.
Earth’s ecosystems depend upon keeping those entangled sometimes radically different happy places in a balance of complex coordination. We do not generally, as primates, like to live in wetlands (though many have adapted to do so), and yet, without wetlands filtering our water and air (partly because of all the creatures that thrive in wetlands), we could not live well in many parts of the planet.
Being a creature of Earth means supporting systems that do not necessarily seem like utopia to us, but must remain a part of life’s continuum.
Respecting life’s diversity, biological and cultural, requires some discomfort…and raises questions about how we adapt to new circumstances and change to flow with them. As a wildlife photographer, I often have to adapt to another creature’s happy place temporarily in order to be close enough to them to capture their moments. Sometimes that means being very uncomfortable. What I get out of this is the gift of connection to a greater world full of wonders.
For me, Earth Day is a sort of “new year’s” commitment to belonging to the Earth, to being part of a continuum of cultures and creatures. Rather than the Earth being somehow my possession, and the creatures of Earth being below me in a false hierarchy, I surrender to playing a perhaps small role in a greater system—I ask what I can contribute. It is a time to renew my commitment to being part of a fairly new species, still learning and growing, and making big mistakes in the process; it is a time, especially this year, to reflect on how I can be part of solutions that are extremely complex and often uncomfortable.
In 5 billion years or so, the sun will become a red giant. If earthlings still exist, they will certainly perish. This is not meant to be a message of doom, but rather a message that nothing lasts forever—this life on Earth is precious and finite, and after such a hard year, I feel grateful for every moment. Life on Earth right now is challenging, complex, and will take every ounce of creativity we can offer; no matter who we are, we have something we can give—even if it is a small act of kindness—like picking up trash on a beach, planting a pollinator-friendly plant in a pot, or checking that another Earthling (whether human or another species) has what they need.
Happy Earth Day! Wherever you are, I commit to being your creaturely relation here on our precious blue planet.