Abstract
The multi-faceted ecological crisis—combining problems of ecology, society, and religion—is tied to the ideologies implicit in Western thinking. In this essay, I outline an ecofeminist theology which addresses how the current ecological crisis we face—including but not limited to, climate change, mass species extinction, ocean acidification, the rise in wildfires and superstorms, glacial melt, pollution—are tied to problematic and incorrect ideologies. To do this, I utilize Val Plumwood’s robust ecofeminist philosophy to revealing harmful dualisms implicit in all forms of oppression. I critique transcendental monotheism for extracting life, God, and agency from the natural world. If God exists over and above the Earth, and this God is omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient, this justifies the problematic lagged response to our urgent ecological crisis. In short, my ecofeminist theology (1) affirms intersectionality. It considers racial injustice and systemic racism are intertwined with the ecological crises. We cannot address our ecological crisis without also addressing racial injustice. (2) It critiques a transcendental monotheistic God as this reinforces irresponsible and apathetic responses to our multi-faceted ecological crisis. And (3) it affirms Plumwood’s “philosophical animism” as a way to retrieve nature in the active voice. By retrieving nature in the active voice, we retrieve a sense of groundedness in place through relationships with non-humans. Her “philosophical animism” affirms agency in the natural world without culturally appropriating Indigenous cultures. It is a way for Westerners to enter into dialogical relationship with the natural world. It is both political—affirming the rights of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color—and it is personal—engaging in a practice of the wild (Gary Snyder).
Keywords
Which Ecofeminism?
The term “ecofeminism” was coined by French feminist Francoise d’Eaubonne when she called for women to lead the ecological revolution to save the Earth in her book Le Féminisme ou la Mort (1974). 1 D’Eaubonne argued that “the destruction of the planet is due to the profit motif inherent in male power.” 2 Ecofeminism is an umbrella term, Karen Warren notes, to cover multiple approaches, forms, and roles ecofeminists can take on. 3 Ecofeminist theologian Heather Eaton uses the image of a traffic roundabout, or an intersection of roadways, to envision this multiplicity of approaches that ecofeminists take. 4 Whether activist or academic, religious or secular, radical ecofeminist, cultural ecofeminist, ecowomanist, and so on, ecofeminists draw attention to the “important connections between the domination of women and the domination of nature.” 5 Ecofeminist theory draws the woman–nature connection empirically, epistemologically, and conceptually/symbolically (and/or culturally). 6
In this essay, I follow Val Plumwood’s ecofeminism, which is a robust intersectional analysis offering a framework to understand the interconnection of a multiplicity of oppressions. Prior to Plumwood’s arrival on the ecofeminist scene, ecofeminist efforts in scholarship and activism have been valuable to the feminist and environmental movements. However, the movement has been criticized for its lack of intersectionality, its essentialist nature, for being theoretically weak, and “doubtfully liberated.” 7 In this sense, some ecofeminists have uncritically reversed the sexism that has been done to them by “uncritically reversing” gender norms, gender roles, and power structures. 8 One example of this is how some of the White feminist movement has been empowering women to take on masculine gender roles. I’ve also witnessed some feminism claiming that women are better than men (as in some Goddess spirituality). This reaction against the dominator is still in relation to him. In this sense, it neither truly liberates women or nature but rather reinforces structures of domination feminists have been working to do away with.
Some ecofeminists claim that goddess worshiping cults existed before patriarchy began its political and religious reign in the West. 9 The revival of goddess worshipping traditions and pantheism in Western society is an important step in reconstructing the Cartesian mind–body dualism, and dualistic conceptual-lived systems. However, ecofeminist Greta Gaard offers a critical perspective as she questions the relevance of retrieving goddess cults from the Near and Middle East and central Europe for women from the United States. She wonders, is this cultural imperialism? 10
In this essay, I affirm Plumwood’s intersectional ecofeminism, reject cultural appropriation and imperialism, and call for a “critical rethink” (Plumwood) of Western ideologies. It is important to note that lawyer and civil rights scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw coined the term “intersectionality” in 1989 to demonstrate how Black women are theoretically erased from both anti-racist politics and feminist theory. 11 Feminist theory tends to privilege the experience of White women, and anti-racist politics privileges the experience of Black men. The specific problems of Black women slip through the frameworks when race and gender meet. The work of intersectionality highlights these points of slippage by revealing this problematic dynamic and the specificity of a situation.
Intersectionality observes the multi-directional and complex oppressions along multiple lines of race, class, gender, species, ability, ethnicity, and sexuality. According to A. E. Kings, ecofeminism has “used the ‘tools’ of intersectionality” before Crenshaw coined the term, without explicitly using the term. 12 Crenshaw’s work representing the multiplicity and complex oppressions of Black women whereby ecofeminists represent the multiplicity and complex oppressions of women and the environment. Plumwood demonstrates that oppression is based upon interlocking dualisms that create hierarchies, resulting in oppression.
Plumwood’s critical ecological feminism is based in feminist theory to “increase the critical and analytical force” of ecofeminism. 13 She has created a critical ecofeminism with a robust analytical framework capable of challenging dominant forces and modes of power and oppression. She develops her ecofeminism with the goal of contributing a political tool to bolster activist struggle. Her ecofeminism is radical. It is a method of “subversion, resistance, and replacement.” 14 Her method does not “add women and stir.” In other words, while diversity and inclusion movements are a wonderful step in the right direction, they are not enough. I often see universities addressing the call for more diversity and inclusion by placing diverse individuals into patriarchal structures and positions of power without questioning patriarchal dominator ideologies. This move is helpful but not sufficient. For Plumwood, she affirms the experiences of women, aligning the feminist movement with intersecting movements of oppression—racism, classism, speciesism, human exceptionalism—creating a force with the capacity to challenge dominant modes of power and privilege.
Although different in many ways, in this way, her ecofeminism is aligned with Mary Daly who states, “There are some who persist in claiming that the liberation of women will only mean that new characters will assume the same old roles, and nothing will change essentially in structures, ideologies, and values.” 15 Rather, the ecofeminist movement could offer a framework capable of acting “as a catalyst for radical change in our culture.” 16 It must. We are already behind on addressing climate change. We are already in the midst of the sixth mass extinction event, which doesn’t make the news. We have already lost too many Black, Indigenous, and other people of color (BIPOC). The women’s movement must become intersectional, aligning itself with other movements working to address and subvert domination and oppression. To quote bell hooks, the feminist movement should be a “liberation struggle”; a struggle to “exist apart from and as a part of the larger struggle to eradicate domination in all forms. We must understand that patriarchal domination shares an ideological foundation with racism and other forms of group oppression.” 17
This work will demand a collective refusal of all cooptation of the labor and energies which have been used to reinforce the patriarchal structures and ideologies. The natural world has begun its refusal process by communicating its limits. Increased wildfires in California, record breaking temperature highs, glacial melt, to name a few. BIPOC are refusing to accept colonial histories by tearing them down, as they symbolically represent the celebration and justification of slavery and oppression of their people. Women are continuing to speak out and take control of their lives and their bodies by continuing the #metoo movement.
One might not be aware that our energies are being co-opted by patriarchy because patriarchy is all we know. 18 It is the political, religious, and economic structure that has been around for around ten to twelve thousand years. It is said to have arisen with the invention of agriculture. Prior to the Agricultural Revolution, humans lived a subsistence lifestyle as hunter-gatherers. Once we began to settle into villages and colonies, we began to control nature and separate ourselves from the natural world. Once we could control and count crops, we began accumulating resources. With this accumulation, inequality emerged, and intertwined with inequality was oppression.
Understanding Oppression: Dualisms and the Logic of Colonization in Western Thought
This movement from the hunter-gather to village domesticity marks the advent of patriarchy. Separating from the natural world contributed to our controlling the natural world. When humans began counting crops, profit-driven economics emerged. Recall that D’Eaubonne connected the destruction of the planet with the profit motif in male power. Humans began to rely on math and reason as ultimate forms of truth. The masculinization of reason, or the “cult of reason,” that disregards the sphere of women, nature, the body, and marginalized people. 19 The rise in male power resulted in the gendered division of labor—women were relegated to the household since working in the fields would often result in miscarriage. Accumulation of wealth alongside the ideologies of American democracy and freedom resulted in the colonization of Indigenous people and the enslavement of African Americans. A transcendental monotheistic God was intrinsically tied to these ideologies, justifying settler colonialism.
Plumwood points out that it is the same underlying logic—the “logic of colonization” (similar to ecofeminist Karen Warren’s logic of domination)—which justifies the domination of man over woman, human over nature, and all other intersecting oppressions. 20 The logic of colonization affirms intersecting oppressions in the categories of race, class, gender, ability, to name a few. According to Plumwood, excluding multiple others in order to create the master’s identity (while denying this dependency) “lies at the heart of western culture” and is most prevalent in its conception of reason. 21 Relying too much on sheer reason results in blindspots or patterns of thinking that consider those “others”—those who don’t resemble the master’s identity (White, wealthy, land-owning, powerful, uses reason, etc.) to be less than, and to be available for limitless use by the master. Consider women’s, Latinx, and Black labor, and the environment. Backgrounding one’s reliance on this work results in the denial of dependence on these enabling conditions.
The logic of colonization is based on a hyperseparation between two poles of a dualism, or contrasting pair, where one is seen as superior and the other inferior. Examples of these dualisms are man–woman, human–nature, White–Black, master–slave, God–world, reason–emotion, public–private, production–reproduction. 22 Dualisms have been the major forms of oppression in Western thought as they are “closely tied with domination and accumulation.” 23
While polarities exist as the basic metaphysical structure of reality, what Plumwood distinguishes as a dualism is more complex than this. Polarities operate “everywhere and at all times . . . are all-pervasive . . . often interrelated and perhaps interdependent and sometimes convergent . . . perhaps indispensable to one another.” 24 Dualisms incorporate an assigned value which gets passed down through generations. A dualism is different than simply separating or categorizing, as distinguishing what is A and not-A. It generates and naturalizes a hierarchy whereby one is better than the other, or more highly valued, and worthy of superior treatment. The danger behind mastery and domination is that what is actually a sociological factor (i.e. master–slave identities) can become “naturalized” and accepted as biological fact. 25 In other words, a socially constructed identity can be internalized and passed down over generations. This is the insidious, systemic, and dangerous dynamic of oppression. What is important to understand is that these social constructs are not beyond revision. One first must identify these false constructs in order to move beyond oppression.
Ideologies and God: Power in Transcendental Monotheism
One problematic dualism that I will consider in this section is heaven–hell. In Christian ideologies, the goal of this life is to be good, do good, and love and have faith in God so that one can enter into the kingdom of heaven. Heaven is not of this world; it is often considered a separate realm existing over and above this Earth. This ideology has led to the destruction of the Earth since in this sense what one does here on this Earth doesn’t ultimately matter.
All too often when facing the reality of our environmental crisis, I’ve heard Christians respond with, “It’s in God’s hands,” or “God wouldn’t create a problem that He can’t fix.” These statements reveal the subject’s belief system and ideological commitment to a transcendental monotheistic God. Qualities of a monotheistic God include omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence. An omnipotent God is all-powerful. He has no limits, and He does what he wants. (Not much different from the rules the patriarchs of late-modern capitalism live by.) He controls the wind, water, storms, land, and so on. If he created a problem, then surely, He can fix it.
The omniscience of a monotheistic God means He is all-knowing. He knows all categories of thought, including the known unknowns, and the unknown unknowns. His knowledge is total. He has a plan that we can’t know. How comforting this is. And finally, a monotheistic God’s omnipresence means he is all-present. He is capable of being every at the same time. Much like Santa Claus from the Christian tradition—he knows when you are sleeping and he knows when you’re awake. Therefore, you better be good for goodness sake. He is in everything and is everywhere. It is different from pantheism, which means that God is nature, or God is the universe. In pantheism, there is no difference. In monotheism, God inhabits the universe, but He also is separate from it. This separation allows for Him to exist over and above the Earth, in order to control it. This separation is hierarchy.
It is not surprising that a monotheistic God in a patriarchal society is male-identified. These characteristics of a monotheistic God resemble Catherine Keller’s claim that males resemble separative selves whereby femininity has been considered to be more soluble or relational. 26 This finding resembles the psychological findings of Carol Gilligan’s work In a Different Voice as well as Nancy Chodorow’s feminist psychology. 27 A separative self may be more capable of domination and control since empathy, mutual reciprocity, and relationality are not at the forefront of concern.
In multiple texts, French feminist philosopher Luce Irigaray affirms that the Western monotheistic male God represents the “ideal ego,” or the superego to use Freudian terms, for men. 28 In this sense, by introjecting the qualities represented by God, once can fantasize them into being. In this way, a male God serves as a universal role model for men. Omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience become unquestioned ideals. They become codified into society, whereby domination and hierarchy define civilization rather than reciprocity and egalitarianism. In this way, psychology, ideology, and society are connected. The Western male God is the ideal male ego. It is assumed to be morally good and upstanding, and therefore goes as the unquestioned norm. Society is structured around this norm—as patriarchy.
Irigaray draws out the connections between this living God—through the people, His followers—and ideology in patriarchy. She states, [I]t is always necessary to have recourse to a transcendent and unique God-Father . . . Respect for God is possible as long as no one realizes that he is a mask concealing the fact that men have taken sole possession of the divine, of identity, and of kinship.
29
Other representations of God are not considered—the God of this Earth, of non-humans. In fact, oftentimes it is considered blasphemous to question God and God’s will. The transcendent monotheistic God is insidious as it is represented in politics, architecture, and symbol systems. For Irigaray, the phallus is God. 30 It is the symbols of power—the Eiffel Tower, the Washington Monument, the Ulm Minster, the Burj Khalifa.
As we know, our ideologies, or belief systems, create the world we live in. Currently, 4.3 billion people ascribe to a monotheistic God—55%. That is over half of the world’s population. 31 If we think God is male, we attribute and identify those characteristics to power. It is human psychology. If I think God is a big guy in the sky, and he is all-powerful, all-knowing, and everywhere, then one will unconsciously assume that male figures in the lived and real world will also embody these characteristics. Since God is very rarely someone who will be encountered in the real, lived world, these underlying assumptions often go unchecked.
A monotheistic God is comforting. It helps one sleep better at night knowing that ultimately nothing we do matters because He is ultimately in control. He has the last say. This concept is extremely dangerous as it naturalizes male power, making male power unquestioned and unquestionable. Going against male power is in a sense, and unconsciously, questioning a Christian God. Questioning God is blasphemy in this tradition.
Plumwood draws attention to the danger behind unquestioned theological assumptions as they harness the power to destroy entire civilizations in “Nature in the Active Voice.” 32 It takes courage, she notes, to question cultural narratives especially those religious narratives. In light of new “hyperobjects” including climate change and pandemics, this calls for us in the West to rethink our ideologies and restructure economics, politics, and society. 33 Greta Gaard calls for the move from a domination, or extractive mode of economics to partnership, or community-oriented societies. 34 Instead of thinking of salvation outside of this world (in heaven), it is important to learn to be in this world, creating heaven on Earth.
Black Lives Matter and Just Love
In this section, I offer an intersectional analysis, applying a Plumwoodean framework to shine new light on theological responses to current events. While I offer a critique of a transcendental monotheistic God specifically in light of how it relates to ecology, I affirm Christian theological concepts of love as radical and just forms of love. I apply the Christian concept of love and connect it to the Black Lives Matter movement. A part of the Christian tradition is to love thy neighbor as thyself. There is a focus on preferential treatment for the poor. A Christian is called to cloth the naked and feed the poor. Affirming these aspects of Christianity, I ask—what do Christian concepts of love look like now in a time of social distancing, political unrest, and the uncovering of systemic racism and intersectional injustices, which includes the destruction of the Earth?
I argue that Black Lives Matter protests, the removal of colonial statues, climate marches, and the destruction of property are forms of Christian love. Public displays of love differ from private love. To love what’s best in someone is oftentimes a tough love. This is inspired by Cornell West who famously states—“justice is what love looks like in public.” 35
Public displays of love are not public displays of affection, but rather public displays of justice. Public displays of affection, in other words, public displays of private love, can be considered disrespectful to those around you because distance is a form of respect in the public realm. This concept of public love is especially relevant at a time of social distancing due to the Coronavirus pandemic. One important aspect of love in both the public and private realm is loving with alterity—or not appropriating the otherness of an individual. I love you for you. I do not wish to change you to become more like me. Loving without alterity—without leaving space for otherness and difference—can be forms of injustice and oppression. These injustices can take the form of colonization, hatred and bigotry, cultural appropriation, and abusive relationships.
Loving too much without leaving space for alterity resembles a scene from John Steinbeck’s novel Of Mice and Men when Lennie hugs the rabbit so hard that he kills it. Love can become an intended force of oppression. Loving the human too much—loving it over and above the natural world—can turn into the human superiority complex. Loving oneself too much can turn into egotism. Loving one expression of the human race can turn into White supremacy. Plumwood uses the term “hegemonic centrism” to describe how power and privilege is cloaked as universal and unbiased (consider science and reason), where marginalized perspectives are seen as “emotional,” “biased,” or “political.” 36 In our current political, economic, and social milieu, marginalized perspectives that challenge dominant modes of power are disregarded as “fake news,” or “the liberal media.” Anything that challenges the supposed universal perspective of those in power is seen as irrational and/or dangerous. Reason, especially as it supports the status quo, is unquestioned and given the status of being objective and unchanging. Anything outside of reason—including reasonable acts and being reasonable and not emotional with speech—is disregarded.
For the duration of the article, I consider speech and voice outside of the normal definition as something one does with the larynx and through the mouth. In a time of our multi-faceted crisis, it is important to deconstruct speech, as those who have historically had their voices stolen from them—BIPOC, the Earth, women, other marginalized groups—are the ones we need to be listening to. As Gayatri Spivak famously questions, “can the subaltern speak?” the answer is a deconstructive no, or rather, the voice of the oppressed is different from the voice of those in power. Disenfranchised voices raise their voices through protests, movements, marches, and demonstrations. If their voices are not privileged in the system that they helped build, their voices will be heard through actions.
Winston Churchill said, “History is written by the victors.” Stories that get passed down as “history” become unquestioned. Colonization, ethnocide, and slavery become justified. The stories of the oppressed become erased. Ecofeminist Heather Eaton agrees, “History never discloses the complexities of its time. Recorded history is most often the narratives of the victors, the literate, the powerful and the ruling group.” 37 Uncovering oppressions is uncovering silenced histories. Stories that have not been told harbor the potential to destabilize the victors.
Resisting erasure of marginalized stories is represented in the recent public acts of throwing statues into the water. It is an act of loving those who have become backgrounded. It is loving all of us, not some of us. It is saying yes to a multitude of stories, not just those who fit the overarching and seemingly universal narrative.
What gets recorded in history? Rock is the element that records both Earth and human history. Think of stratigraphy and fossils. Those are the beings that help us tell the story of Earth past. As anthropologists use fossils to tell the story of human history, I imagine that hundreds of thousands of years into the future, humans (if we are blessed to survive this long) might use statues to tell the stories of our past. In this way the stories of the powerful get solidified in history, while the voices, lifeways, and stories of the oppressed become erased and forgotten.
Man-made rock structures in society harbor powerful symbolism. I think of statues, pyramids, buildings, churches, the Eiffel Tower, Washington Monument. Statues—for example, statues of slave traders and Mount Rushmore—are a sign of Western superiority and arrogance because they normalize slavery and colonialism. The phenomenon of throwing statues into a river is a symbolic act of love: Love as Justice. Because when rock meets water, the water catalyzes the undoing of something so seemingly solid as human history. It reminds us that one day too we will return to the earth. It reminds us that water, while apparently harmless, representing flow and the source of life, has the power to destroy rock if embodied collectively. Consider glaciers which carve out mountains, coasts, and the Great Lakes. Consider how over time, the Colorado River carved out the Grand Canyon.
This deconstruction of history, story, and narrative is a form of justice. Consider the deconstructive philosophy of Jacque Derrida who states succinctly—“deconstruction is justice.” 38 Deconstruction is “at work in the work.” Colonial statues in the water is ecodeconstruction. Instead of considering history as Churchill’s definition—written by the victors—rather, I offer Derrida’s definition of history as a series of exorcisms. For Derrida, to exorcize is to “grant [ghosts] the right, even if it is ‘making them come back alive.’” 39 To exorcize is not to chase them away but giving them a hospitable welcome.
Loving the ghosts of systemic racism, colonial imperialism, and late-modern capitalism (which is responsible for destroying the Earth) would be to bring about justice to the communities who are unjustly suffering. This justice looks different for each movement. For the Black Lives Matter movement, that would include justice for Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. To bring justice to systemic racism would be to address socioeconomic inequalities in the educational and prison system, and in wealth and representation. For colonial imperialism, it would be to grant land rights back to Indigenous people and communities. Addressing Earth injustices would be to create limits on the free market. While those benefiting from these destructive systems will stop it nothing to allow business to continue as usual, it is imperative to note that we are nearing (and have already passed) multiple tipping points which harbor the potential to wipe out the human species if they go unaddressed. Our end would not be the result of one threat, but the systemic amplification of multiple threats.
Ecofeminist Theology: Plumwood’s Philosophical Animism
As I have demonstrated, Plumwood’s ecofeminist framework can be used to criticize transcendental monotheism as it engages with ecology. While Plumwood hasn’t used the term “transcendental monotheism,” she is critical of the Christian creator god that exists outside of this world. 40 Plumwood does not offer an ecologically viable theology because she critiques any framework with a centralized source. 41 She is critical of pantheism for being human-centered and not leaving room for difference. 42 Whitney Bauman demonstrates a theology that utilizes a Plumwoodean framework to be compatible with the theology of Catherine Keller. 43 Keller’s theology affirms a feminist panentheism where God and the natural world are intimately intertwined, overcoming hegemonic binaries. While Keller’s work is complimentary with Plumwood’s in that it does away with binaries, Plumwood is highly critical of process philosophy for its assimilation to a human-centered view and erasure of difference “carried out under the sign of the Same.” 44 It’s anthropocentric hierarchy “seems to offer little prospect of a real challenge to the thesis that the natural world is inferior to the human sphere.” 45
Plumwood identifies as a Philosophical Animist. 46 While she states her spiritual identification in “Nature in the Active Voice,” she doesn’t explicitly draw out what this means. For this, we rely on her close friend and colleague Deborah Bird Rose. Plumwood’s Philosophical Animism does not follow a dogma nor is it orthodoxy. Rather it is “a path, a way of life, a mode of encounter” that “opens the door to a world in which we can begin to negotiate life membership of an ecological community of kindred beings.” 47 It is an earth-centered approach to engaging with the natural world that fits within the Western framework without appropriating Indigenous methods and worldviews.
Philosophical Animism is a robust, theologically sound mode of encounter, addressing the agency of the natural world. Instead of applying a Western framework and imposing it onto the natural world, rather, it works within Western modes of cognition. It is a “materialist spirituality of place” which “does not offer a personalized, faith-based shortcuts around philosophical debates.” 48 There is no God trump card. No one gets the last say in a debate or conversation. Faith is not a reason. There is no framework to filter one’s experience of the world through. No mode of ultimate interpretation. Rather, the mode of encounter is dialogical. The language of place is highly localized. There are no experts. 49
Plumwood’s Philosophical Animism is the “critical rethink” Westerners need to attend to to be able to address climate change, migration, and cultural exchange. 50 She studied Indigenous knowledges to get a sense for these necessary adaptations. This rethink included recognition of non-humans as persons as well as the centrality of relationships. Western figures that offer alignment with her rethink include Marc Bekoff, Lynn Margulis, Dorion Sagan, Graham Harvey, and Daniel Koshland. The core of her spirituality was gratitude. 51
Plumwood’s Philosophical Animism fits with Heather Eaton’s call for new theological categories to be invented since the “natural world is revelatory and there is a need for a religious sensitivity towards the earth.” 52 It is intersectionally sound as it opens to dialogical encounter, leaving room for a multitude of voices, rejecting the logic of domination and harmful dualisms justifying oppression. It is place-based. It recognizes that the Earth has a voice and that humans must humble themselves and open their empathic pathways to attune with this dialogue. The Word (logos) is not owned by a transcendental monotheistic God. The logos is not the word made flesh, but rather, flesh is the word. The Earth is the word. Us Westerners simply need to learn the language of the world, or rather, learn to attune ourselves to this language. It is, to use the word of Derrick Jenson, a language older than words. 53
Conclusion
“Let us love the land of here below. It is real; it offers resistance to love.” ~ Simone Weil, Love in the Void: Where God Finds Us.
The land here below gives us common ground as people—both human and non-human. Attending to our kinship relationship that aren’t human-centered would be learning to truly be in place. Learning to live together would be learning to love our place. This love is not an other-worldly love. It is not a love in any idealistic sense of the word. Rather, this love is a just love. It is a kind love that creates kinships based upon mutuality and reciprocity. It rejects domination, colonialism, and oppression. If God is love, then love is justice.
As ecofeminist and Brazilian Catholic nun Ivone Gebara states, “Ecofeminism is born of daily life.” 54 It is “enduring together garbage in the streets, bad smells, the absence of sewers and safe drinking water, poor nutrition and inadequate healthcare.” 55 It is enduring the wildfires, the pandemic, and climate change as responsible citizens of Earth, considering not short-term for-profit gains, but rather, decisions we make and relationships that endure seven generations. 56 An intersectional ecofeminism recognizes that racial justice is intertwined with climate justice, as we are fighting against the same forces of domination. The same harmful dualisms justifying oppressions through the logic of colonization.
Living in place is a profoundly simple, yet radical practice. For Westerners who often move for college, careers, or to seek better weather, being in place becomes a meditation. Founder of the Japanese Sōtō School of Zen Dōgen reminds us that “when you find your place, practice occurs.” This practice is Gary Snyder’s practice of the wild. Snyder quotes a Crow elder, “I think if people stay somewhere long enough—even white people—the spirits begin to speak to them. It’s the power of the spirits coming up from the land.” 57 The goal isn’t necessarily to love nature, but rather to be here now. In the practice of the wild, there are no escapes, no easy answers, no trump cards, and no escape routes. It’s as simple as learning to live well by learning to live together. It’s the simplest practices that are often the most challenging.
Footnotes
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.