We stood in the shade of a twisted oak tree, a blanket of buttercups sunbathed across the meadow around us. “What can any of us do?” I asked indigenous educator Clint McKay. He’d been showing me around Sonoma County’s Pepperwood Preserve where he stewards the land that had been twice burned in the last few years.
“I know that what I do now might not benefit me, or my kids,” I added, “But I need to do something.” I explained how when we moved into a new house, Nikko and I planted fruit trees—olive and avocado, peach and lime. We did this with the full understanding that these trees might not fruit while we resided on this property. “But I know that by planting these trees I am offering something to the next human and animal residents who will inhabit this land after we are gone.”
“Yet,” I whispered, watching a jay hop between branches, “it doesn’t feel like enough.”
It will never feel like enough
According to my brilliant friend, women’s empowerment coach, Andrea Smith, we find excuses for why we cannot access our strengths. In doing this, we stop ourselves from reaching our true potential. And we can’t let anything get in our way of the work that needs to be done.
Yet, we’ll do these simple acts, like planting trees with our kids, and not take the time to honor what we’re taking on because our actions get dwarfed by the larger feeling of overwhelm.
Maybe it’s time for us to stop focusing on the big picture and start looking at the small acts we take and the impact of those.
The echo of one intentional act
That day under the oak tree, Clint McKay echoed what environmental philosopher Joanna Macy has been saying for years. This is a great time of change. We are coming to a “great awakening” and people are seeing that we cannot sit back and do nothing when it comes to the planet.
Mr. McKay explained that by me taking action to come to the preserve and educate myself, and then by telling you and my kids about it, I’m taking a step toward a great change.
He told me to imagine if ten of you took this concept of stewarding the land around our home not for ourselves, but for the future generations who will inhabit that land, and spread this concept to ten more people. And these ten people spread this idea to ten more, and ten more. Joanna Macy would then be correct.
Today, I’m not celebrating Earth Day
Being better stewards for the Earth isn’t something we need to celebrate, or advertise once a year. It is something we need to do every single day. It’s small. It’s intentional. And it is our best weapon against our climate emergency.
Instead of celebrating Earth Day like all the other newsletter writers in your inbox, I am stewarding my land. I will tend to my veggies, cut back the dry leaves from the bougainvillea, pick up the plastic that blows into my sage, and call those who make policy for this land to remind them that we must be better stewards for the ground under our feet.
For this moment, that will need to be enough.
What will you do today? How will you stop looking at all the reasons why your simple actions won’t work, and instead take a few moments to tend to the Earth that sustains you?